Normalcy is Overrated
by LifeBringsMeOnlyTears
Summary: I never asked to be different. I was pretty complacent being normal. The day I stopped being normal, my whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. When did I say I wanted to be an X-Man? OC alert. Now Complete!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **X-Men are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel. If I owned them, don't you think that I would have better things to do with my time than write crap like this?

**Story Notes:** This story includes an OC of my own creation. Dani Evans is mine and if you try to steal her, I'll have to release the giant ear-eating maggots that I have in a bucket outside. I've based her personality off of my own, so expect a bit of an enigma. There will be _no_ OC romance in this story. Dani's your average eighteen year old with real problems and a real life. There will, however, be CanonXCanon relationships that are going on in the background. Note: Story may include Jean-bashing.

**Rating: **Story is T for language, suggestive content, and possible brief nudity.

**Normalcy is Overrated:** She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**-Chapter One-**_

Throughout my entire life, the word _mutant_ had been uttered in a number of different ways. Most of the time it was said in fear, sometimes in admiration, but more commonly in disgust. Mutants _weren't_ human; they were different, not like us. Of course, it's always been in us to dislike and fear what we don't understand.

Maybe that's why Hitler led the way to the Holocaust.

I was like any other teenager, really, except I tended to stick out a bit more than my peers. But, I'll get back to why later. Senior year was looking promising for me, and I was actually excited about the prospect of graduating for the first time since walking into kindergarten and promptly bawling the moment my mother left me to my own devices. Of course, that little episode had led to me discovering how wonderful crayons had tasted, particularly after I'd drawn a lovely mural on the white wall of my teacher yelling.

That had led to the day that my parents had actually given hope; they'd actually hoped that one day I'd grow up and be the next Picasso.

Of course, that dream was shattered in third grade when I revealed my first _masterpiece_ and promptly caused my art teacher to cry. Apparently she didn't like the idea of a chicken and a cougar mating and producing the cutest little chiggar ever.

Luckily, it was in fourth grade that I discovered a few talents of my own that made being a bit different almost bearable. Somewhere, somehow, in a place far, far away and yet only a mile down the road, I had been born with the innate ability to bring laughter to those around me.

No, I'm not talking about a healing touch, the fist of God or some other mumble jumble that most people would balk at. I'm talking about the ability to take a roomful of people with the snarkiest attitudes in the world and somehow make them laugh. Like any great comedian, I learned that making jokes about myself often got me farthest.

Yet, even I didn't know how to joke my way out of the handcuffs and the looks of horror on the officers' faces.

People around me -teachers, students, friends, strangers- passed by me with looks of fear and confusion on their faces. The little corner the officers and thrown me in was right by the gym's main doors, and I got to see every shaken person as they stumbled through the debris and exited the building. Probably for good.

"Miss Evans, I'm going to ask you again one more time," Mr. Tall, Dark, and Ugly (at least that's what I called him) asked, his thick mustache twitching over his lip slightly as he glanced over at his companions.

Ignoring the confusion and the fatigue that had me in a tight grip, I offered the man a broad smile. "Hey, if I knew what happened don't you think I'd be giving you the details, officers? I'm just as confused as all of you," I murmured, lifting my cuffed hands in front of me and dropping them in my lap.

A sharp intake of breath on his part caused me to wince, and I cursed myself mentally.

Of course they didn't like me moving my hands. After all, moving my hands is what got my Letterman jacket practically torn off of me as three of the local police force tackled me to the gym room floor. Dammit. I worked hard for that jacket!

"You're aware that this is now a matter of national security, are you not, Miss Evans?"

Immediately, I found myself rolling my eyes at the man. "Listen, you're not the FBI and I'm not some terrorist. I have no idea what happened and neither do you so I suggest you let me go and let me have legal counsel because I'm pretty sure that this is illegal."

There was a long pause, and I suddenly realized that it was more quiet than it had been the entire night. It was then that I noticed that the trickle of people moving past our happy little group of cops and girl in cuffs had stopped. Everyone was seemingly out of the gym and probably out of the school altogether. Which meant that I was alone with a group of police officers that were _completely_ convinced that somehow I was the reason that the gym had a hole in the roof the size of half the basketball court.

A man rushed up toward the officers suddenly and leaned in, whispering something in Mr. Dark, Dark, and Ugly's ear before disappearing again. I watched the mustache twitch yet again as the man jerked his head to the side. "Your grandfather is here, Danielle."

A brow lifted in surprise automatically as I dropped my hands into my lap and watched in confusion as a very unfamiliar man approached the scene via wheelchair, his calm eyes meeting mine from a distance and maintaining the hold completely. A preppy looking guy with dark shades was doing the pushing, and he merely stared at me as the officers parted. At least, I thought he was staring at me. I couldn't rightly tell due to the dark-tinted glasses.

Immediately, I opened my mouth to inform the wonderful officers of the law that this man was indeed _not_ my grandfather. After all, my grandpa had been buried two years before. But, I suddenly found myself unable to do anything more than stare.

**Miss Evans, I am here to help you. Please, do not be alarmed and let me speak with these men. They did not call the FBI. In fact, there are a number of men just minutes away that intend to mark you publicly as a mutant**.

Confused and, above all, scared, I merely sat there with my hands in my lap as the man in the wheelchair introduced himself to the officers. Part of me wanted to believe that I was dreaming, that I had imagined someone's voice in my head. But, if I'd heard anyone's voice, it had most certainly been his.

This man, this Charles Xavier.

He was one of _them_.

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**A/N: **So, any thoughts? Hahaha. Horrible, yeah, but I'm having fun and that's all that matters. Sorry for any and all grammar/spelling mistakes. I was too lazy to even read it over.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **X-Men are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel. If I owned them, don't you think that I would have better things to do with my time than write crap like this?

**Story Notes:** Story is post X1 in the Movie-'verse and will ignore X2 and X3. My world, folks. This story includes an OC of my own creation. Dani Evans is mine and if you try to steal her, I'll have to release the giant ear-eating maggots that I have in a bucket outside. I've based her personality off of my own, so expect a bit of an enigma. There will be _no_ OC romance in this story. Dani's your average eighteen year old with real problems and a real life. There will, however, be CanonXCanon relationships that are going on in the background. Note: Story may include Jean-bashing.

**Rating: **Story is T for language, suggestive content, and possible brief nudity.

**Normalcy is Overrated:** She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**Chapter Two**_

I wasn't sure what was more strange, and chose to comment on none of the strange occurrences that had happened to me in the course of the night. Somehow, I claimed it was simply life handing me my first dose of luck, Mr. Xavier had managed to _talk_ the officers into releasing me into his custody. After all, I was technically of age and since the gym of the roof was obviously faulty, there was simply no way that they could hold me.

But, don't think I didn't notice the dazed expressions on their faces, or the fact that Mr. Xavier just happened to forget about the cuffs until he and some Scott fellow were actually leading me out a side exit of the school.

I think it was more confusion than anything that kept me from firing off a load of questions that were just dying to be asked. After all, it had been one hell of a night.

"Get in, please," Scott murmured as he motioned in front of him.

Uneasily, I glanced toward the man and then down at Mr. Xavier, and then back again. "Get in where? Look, thanks for helping me and all but-"

Then, in the blink of an eye, I watched as a large plane- no a jet- appeared in the parking lot in front of me. A lump formed in my throat, one which was quickly swallowed as I hesitantly took a step forward and shook my head.

The night was only going to get stranger, wasn't it?

The question was answered the moment that I shuffled up the awkward ramp that had appeared, and found myself face to face with a man that could only be described as 'huge, metal, and evil'. I tried to cover up my obvious fear with a chuckle, but the chuckle quickly turned into a shriek as I flailed my cuffed hands in front of me.

Said flailing resulted in the entire large plane of sorts to rock side to side, and I let out a squeal of confusion. The squealing turned into all out shrieking as something gripped my shoulder and I realized, with a sinking feeling of dread, that the evil metal man had gotten to me.

"No! You'll never take me alive!" I shouted as I dove over Mr. Xavier's wheelchair and into a roll, promptly rolling back down the ramp and out onto the cold, hard pavement. The metal cuffs dug into my wrists sharply, and I couldn't help but groan as my head slapped against the pavement roughly. I was seeing stars, and not in the figurative sense.

"Miss Evans!" the nice old man shouted, and I blinked away my own confusion long enough to realize that he was staring down at me from atop the ramp. "Please, do calm down."

But, then the evil metal giant of doom started down the ramp toward me, its beady silver eyes focused on me as it got closer and closer. Fear gripped me in its tight vice-like grip as I rolled over onto my stomach, somehow, and pushed myself to my feet.

The cuffs, I still couldn't figure out why Mr. Xavier didn't make them take it off, dug into my skin even more sharply as I stumbled to my feet, swaying slightly without the ability to hold my arms out and steady myself. The arm flailing began again, and this time I could feel the ground beneath me quaking.

Surprisingly, I only let out an unholy shriek when two big metal hands wrapped around my wrists, causing my hands to stop moving and my eyes to travel up the length of the metal arms to the black vest, to the metal face. "Please, you must be calm," the metal _thing_ whispered softly, the metal disappearing inch by inch.

My eyes were widened in surprise, or maybe horror, as I found myself staring up at a large man instead of a big hunk of metal. Jaw dropped, I attempted to pull myself out of his grasp, only to have his fingers tighten around my wrist.

Surprisingly, it was then that I heard Mr. Xavier's voice in my head, _again_.

**Miss Evans, more authorities are already on their way. Please remain calm and allow Colossus to carry you aboard the X-Jet**.

A snort erupted from my nose as I jiggled my wrists out of the giant's grip and took a fumbled step backwards. _I'd like to see him try_, I thought to myself, eyes narrowed in anger.

Much to my surprise, the large man (Colossus?) managed to scoop me into his arms simply, dangling me over one shoulder and giving me a rather up close and personal interview with his rather excellent looking behind. Of course, we were nearly halfway up the ramp when I remembered that I was scared of him, and that the big evil metal man might want to hurt me.

Thus, I began to thrash in his arms.

I'm not a lightweight, I'll be the first to admit it. I'd always been one of those girls that had actual meat on her bones, curves, muscles. Whatever you felt like calling them. I mean, come on, it was _my_ Letterman jacket that I'd been wearing. Do you have any idea how much fun conditioning for three different sports _per_ year is? It's not fun at all.

Maybe that's why most people tend to stick to one sport a year instead of one sport per season?

So, it really wasn't much of a surprise when the Colossus guy let out a slight groan and turned, probably a bit too sharply. Because suddenly the side of my head rapped against something hard and I was seeing stars, _again_. Lots of them.

Blinking rapidly didn't seem to help, so I decided to grab a quick nap and see if it did. Groggily, I simply slumped against the man and let the weightless feeling take over my senses. I might have giggled a little bit, particularly when I felt something warm against my face and opened my eyes.

I'm not sure how I knew it, but I was laying down on something and I could only assume that it was the floor of whatever plane it was that we'd boarded. The big guy was staring down at me, his blue eyes narrowed in my direction.

"Don't look at me like that," I grumbled, eyes flickering as I smiled in spite of myself.

His mouth moved repeatedly, and I barely took notice of the man standing with his hand on the large guy's shoulder. It was the guy with shades, the one that apparently didn't know how to talk at all. They both were staring at me and suddenly I didn't care as I curled myself around the big guy's crouched leg.

"You smell like popcorn."

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**A/N: **Thank you to my three reviewers: _Generated Anomoly, PassionsInsanity, & Certh_. I'm glad that people like this one so far. Like I said, I started writing it in fun and it's been a very **long** time since I wrote a fun fic. So, yep. That's chapter two. Short innit?


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **X-Men are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel. If I owned them, don't you think that I would have better things to do with my time than write crap like this?

**Story Notes:** Story is post X1 in the Movie-'verse and will ignore X2 and X3. My world, folks. This story includes an OC of my own creation. Dani Evans is mine and if you try to steal her, I'll have to release the giant ear-eating maggots that I have in a bucket outside. I've based her personality off of my own, so expect a bit of an enigma. There will be _no_ OC romance in this story. Dani's your average eighteen year old with real problems and a real life. There will, however, be CanonXCanon relationships that are going on in the background. Note: Story may include Jean-bashing.

**Rating: **Story is T for language, suggestive content, and possible brief nudity.

**Normalcy is Overrated:** She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**Chapter Three**_

A lot of people often claimed that I was a smart kid. Oh, I knew that I was ahead of the curve most of the time and in most topics, but even I was thrown for a complete loop the moment that I opened my eyes and realized that I was not looking up at a familiar green ceiling.

No, this ceiling was silver and shiny and made me wonder if I'd fallen asleep wrist-deep in the hood of my cousin's car. But, I was quickly introduced to a world of _"Huhs?"_ that left me more confused than before.

Somehow, I'm still not sure how, I was ushered off of what appeared to be an examination table and guided through a long and shiny corridor and into a big conference room of sorts. The woman that had guided me around offered me a slightly strained smile as she motioned for me to sit.

Thus, I took full inventory of my surroundings and let out a shriek that caused some -or all- to grimace. Of course, my hands were still cuffed in front of me so I couldn't wave them around like some mad woman at the sudden realization that I definitely wasn't in Kansas anymore.

I recognized exactly three people out of the however many were gathered. The old man, the dude in the shades, and the huge guy that had a rather nice ass- er, asset. But, other than that, I felt like a pig walking into the slaughtering house.

Literally.

"Miss Evans, I am so relieved to see that you are well after the little incident in the X-Jet this evening." The man in the wheelchair, _Mr. Xavier_- as I reminded myself, wheeled forward and eyed me slowly. "I trust that you are suffering no side effects from the mild concussion, my dear?" he questioned gently.

Furrowing my brows, I found myself slowing nodding my head. "Slight headache, but I think I'm fine," I murmured, my voice sounding as though someone had shoved a dirty tube sock in my mouth and they weren't planning on ever removing it. Groggily, I licked my dry lips and let my eyes dart from Mr. Xavier's face to the face of the redheaded woman that had led me into the room. "Am I in trouble or is this some sort of an intervention?"

"No, on both accounts, my child," Mr. Xavier zoomed backwards and motioned for me to sit at the large table in one of the rather uncomfortable looking chairs. I eyed him incredulously for a long moment before he lifted a rather comical brow in my direction. _Those are some definite Marx Brothers brows_, I thought to myself with thinned lips. "Why, thank you, Miss Evans. Now, won't you please have a seat?"

Right, the old dude did something that made me think I could hear him in my head, so he could probably hear me too, right? Right.

Uneasily, I shuffled forward and dropped, rather heavily, into a chair between a scrawny looking girl and the large dude that had caused me to whack my head in the first place. "So, is someone going to tell me what's going on, or am I going to have to pretend that it's normal for me to wake up in a stranger's place with handcuffs on? Because this is a little more kinky than I go for," I dead panned.

The room was eerily quiet for a long moment before the old guy -Mr. Xavier- wheeled himself to the head of the table and the redhead took a seat next to him. "Miss Evans, you're in my school for mutants," he explained casually, as though it were merely some sort of a campus visit. "I sensed you with Cerebro-"

"You what? You _sensed_ me?" I asked, hands tucked into my lap as I glanced at him in horror. "What the heck?"

He smiled at me warmly before continuing. "I sensed you with a powerful amplifying machine known as Cerebro that amplified my mutant abilities. As I'm sure you've already gathered, I am a telepath." I squirmed immediately and he hastened to continue. "You've heard about the recent increases in odd activity blamed on _mutants_, have you not?"

Quickly, I nodded my head. "Uh, yeah, I think that everyone has."

"Then it should come as no surprise to you to learn that you are indeed a mutant as well, Miss Evans." My jaw dropped but before I could interrupt, he continued. "I detected a strange signature from New Jersey some many hours ago, but I was unable to get a lock on your location until the incident at your high school truly began. We dispatched a team immediately and arrived some ten minutes later."

Licking my dry lips again, I focused on the man sitting at the head of the table simply so that I wouldn't worry about looking at the others that I didn't know nor did I care to know. "Okay, so I'm a mutant, you're a mutant, we're all mutants?" I suggested, glancing out of the corner of my eye at the bulky guy next to me. However, everyone remained silently as I squirmed in my seat a bit more. "So what does this mean? Do I get to hide out here until the cops forget about me so that I can go home?"

Those comical Marx Brothers eyebrows rose so far that if he had any hair they probably would have disappeared. "On the contrary, Miss Evans. I've already discussed the arrangement with your grandmother and all parties involved think that it would be best if you were to remain here. Indefinitely."

The whole mutant thing that seemed like it was only a big thing in the lives of _other_ people had suddenly taken my life by the horns and kicked me square in the face. Suddenly, my senior year of high school wasn't looking too great and I was feeling more or less completely screwed over.

Hence the reason why I forgot about what happened the last time I did something stupid with my hands.

Needless to say, Mr. Xavier says I'm going to have to replace his table.

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**A/N:** Yep, another short chapter. Actually have 7 or 8 done so far, but that's probably because they're so short? Thanks to my two reviewers: _Certh & xXSlightly-PsychoticXx_.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **X-Men are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel. If I owned them, don't you think that I would have better things to do with my time than write crap like this?

**Story Notes:** Story is post X1 in the Movie-'verse and will ignore X2 and X3. My world, folks. This story includes an OC of my own creation. Dani Evans is mine and if you try to steal her, I'll have to release the giant ear-eating maggots that I have in a bucket outside. I've based her personality off of my own, so expect a bit of an enigma. There will be _no_ OC romance in this story. Dani's your average eighteen year old with real problems and a real life. There will, however, be CanonXCanon relationships that are going on in the background. Note: Story may include Jean-bashing.

**Rating: **Story is T for language, suggestive content, and possible brief nudity.

**Normalcy is Overrated:** She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**-Chapter Four-**_

So living in a huge Mansion had a lot of perks, I'd be the first to admit it.

I got my own room, which is always a plus, and the bathrooms were kept pretty clean. I didn't have to clean them like at home, so that was always a big bonus in my head. Food was always hot and fresh, and as long as I made it down to the kitchens before it was all gone, I could practically have my choice of delicious food. The people seemed pretty cool, even if I did tend to avoid them.

But, it still wasn't _home_.

Mr. Xavier had carted me off to a new room, a room that he informed me was my only choice due to the nature of my so-called mutation. Apparently, I was a danger to not only myself, but everyone around me until I could get control of it. Needless to say, I somehow got royally screwed over and I was stuck in the boys wing.

At first, I'd thought that he was joking around, maybe pulling my leg as some sort of a hazing process. But, after three days, I'd finally accepted the fact that I was _always_ going to have to knock on the huge community bathroom door before I entered. Sure, there were stalls, but there were also _urinals_.

I did not want to see any of _that_.

There's also the fact that they wouldn't let me go back to my house with them in order to get my stuff. Mr. Xavier, or Professor Xavier as everyone else seemed to call him, was adamant and sent Scott, Jean, and Ororo back to New Jersey to get my stuff. Sure, I had most of their names down, but that didn't mean that I wanted any of them to be going through my freaking panty drawer!

Of course, there's also the fact that I start school _again_ in just over a week. They wanted me to get a bit more acquainted with my peers and get a bit of control of my hands, er- powers before they let me loose in a classroom. So, what was I supposed to do with all of the time that was on my hands?

Apparently I was supposed to wander around the huge Mansion-esque school with absolutely no destination in mind. I'd tried simply hiding out in my room, but my one and only neighbor was less than quiet.

Trust me. The sounds coming from Mr. Logan's room will make any girl run for the hills.

So, it was with a nervous gait that I entered what the map in my hand insisted was a recreation room. A quick glance around the rather empty room proved that the map wasn't a complete waste of resources, and I found myself shuffling toward a large couch almost suspiciously. I knew that most of the others were in class, but it seemed like every time I thought I had a moment alone I ran into someone that was content to merely stare at me or ask _"What can you do?"_

I mean, come on! I think it's pretty rude to stare at someone to begin with, but to seriously ask them what they could do?

Sure, I could run down the list of my wide array of skills and talents and wow them with my awesome prowess, but something told me that they were referring to _it_. That's what I called it. _It. _I was apparently some mutant that could do weird things with my hands, things that caused a lot of damage and left people around me just as confused as I was.

Plus, I knew that I stuck out like a sore thumb.

Everyone was running around with book bags and talking to their friends, and most of them actually _looked_ normal. Okay, so I might have screamed a few times, particularly on the first day when I found myself facing this chick that looked more like a snake than an actual snake, but I'd apologized the moment that I realized that Crocodile Dundee wasn't going to make a sudden appearance. I, on the other hand, was walking around in borrowed sweats with stupid X's on them and looking like some sort of lost invalid.

I mean, it was pretty hard to look normal when you have your arms folded over your chest everywhere you go. Maybe it wasn't the safest fail safe plan to get me through the day, but so far I'd only had an accident. Okay, two. But, I still thought I was doing pretty good.

Mr. Xavier and his X-Men thought otherwise.

"You're the new chick, right?" a voice from the far left caused me to literally jump a foot off of the ground. Of course, the same voice chuckled at me as I turned abruptly and found myself facing a rather unfamiliar figure. "Yeah, you are her. Danielle, right?"

He sat in a corner, alone, leaning his chair back against the wall as he played with what appeared to be a lighter of some kind. His face looked a little familiar, and I vaguely remembered meeting him when I met the others that liked to dress up in leather and get kinky by saving people.

"That would be me," I managed to reply as I clumsily folded up the map and slipped it into the pocket of the baggy gray sweats before crossing my arms, yet again, over my chest. "Thought class was still in?"

"Yeah, well, I decided that class was out and bailed." He chuckled rather loudly before smirking and closing the lighter indefinitely. Almost lazily, he rocked the chair forward and rose, walking toward me with a sort of strut that made me think of a rooster. "I'm John Allerdyce, but you can call me Pyro."

The snort wasn't something that I'd planned, but it wasn't exactly something that I could take back. Of course, I knew the moment that he narrowed his eyes that my chance at a good impression had just been chucked out the window, but the majority of me didn't much care. Still, it was in my nature to take a bad situation and make it better, so I attempted to right my mistake.

"Sorry, the whole code names thing is just pretty weird if you ask me." Shrugging as if to say that it didn't rightly matter, I wiped my hand on the side of my leg and then offered it to him. "Danielle Evans, but friends call me Dani." There, that was good, I was relying on the manners that my grandma had beaten into me.

He glanced down at my hand before taking it cautiously, shaking it only once. Before dropping it. "Hey, we're mutants. Most of us take something that represents our unique powers, obviously." Then, he clicked open the lighter and produced a large ball of flame within a second or two, seemingly holding it in his other palm. As quickly as it appeared, it disappeared. "Hence Pyro."

My eyes were wide in amazement and I slowly nodded my head. "I'd only seen a few mutants before, other than on the news, before I came here," I admitted almost in an ashamed matter. "There were a few back home, but the majority of them bailed pretty quick. Lot of chauvinistic jerks in my hometown that didn't smile too kindly on people like you- er, us."

There it was again. It was still hard to place myself in the same group as _them_. They were mutants. I was me.

Yet, I was a mutant, too, right?

"Right," he managed before cocking a brow in my direction and slipping his lighter into the pocket of his jeans. "I heard that you're going to be training with us, the Junior X-Men." Maybe it was the horrified look on my face that gave my confusion away, because he quickly continued. "The X-Men are the teachers and stuff? Cyclops, Storm, Miss Grey, and I think Wolverine. Hell, he's not a teacher but he might as well be."

Chewing on my bottom lip, I nodded as though I could completely follow his words, when in truth I was more confused than I was before he'd mentioned the X-Men in general. "So, the Jr. X-Men are... I'm guessing students?"

"Bingo," he grinned, walking past me and toward the entryway. Almost lazily, I looked over my shoulder and let my gaze follow him. "Dani?" I flinched as I realized that he'd caught me simply staring at him.

"Yeah John?" I mumbled, turning completely as I crossed my arms over my chest.

There it was, the common bad boy smirk that made me immediately realize that I was going to have to stay as far away from him as humanly possible. As mutantly possible? Oh, whatever.

"Welcome to Mutant High."

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**A/N: **Thanks for reading. Feel free to review.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **X-Men are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel. If I owned them, don't you think that I would have better things to do with my time than write crap like this?

**Story Notes:** Story is post X1 in the Movie-'verse and will ignore X2 and X3. My world, folks. This story includes an OC of my own creation. Dani Evans is mine and if you try to steal her, I'll have to release the giant ear-eating maggots that I have in a bucket outside. I've based her personality off of my own, so expect a bit of an enigma. There will be _no_ OC romance in this story. Dani's your average eighteen year old with real problems and a real life. There will, however, be CanonXCanon relationships that are going on in the background. Note: Story may include Jean-bashing.

**Rating: **Story is T for language, suggestive content, and possible brief nudity.

**Normalcy is Overrated:** She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**-Chapter Five-**_

If ever had I doubted that it was all some sort of a hoax, my fears were laid to rest the very next day. Scott, Jean, and Ororo had returned from their little mission to pick up my belongings, and they picked up _everything_.

"Your grandma was feeling a little pressured by the local authorities, Danielle," Scott had explained with a serious expression upon his face. "They went there looking for you, and after tearing your room apart-"

"They what?" I exclaimed, jaw dropping as I glanced around at the large array of boxes in my new room.

This time it was Jean that tried to explain the situation to me. "Someone showed up after the X-Jet lifted off, though we are not quite sure who it was. It seems that they hassled your grandmother-"

"Bet they wish they hadn't done that," I interrupted, grimacing slightly at the thought of Granny Janie pulling out her loaded shotgun on some person that was foolish enough to actually try something with her. "She's okay, right?"

"Of course she is okay," the airy one, Ororo, smiled at me as she motioned to the large array of boxes stacked haphazardly in my new room. "However, we found it would best if you were to have everything you need at your disposal here. After all, it may be quite some time before you are able to risk a trip to New Jersey in order to visit."

I think that's when it hit me.

My family, my friends, my school... All of it was all gone. Just like that. I hadn't even gotten a chance to say goodbye to any of them, to any of it. Suddenly, my life was on a different path- one that I'd never before considered.

A snort erupted from me as I spotted a familiar green folder sitting atop a box labeled _School Supplies_. Without any warning whatsoever, I picked up the folder and dropped it into the wastebasket by the bed before slipping through Scott and Jean and out into the hall.

"Danielle, is everything okay?" Jean called out, but I only continued to walk down the hall and ignore her.

What did I need college applications for now anyway?

XoXoXoXoXoX

I discovered on day four that John hadn't been lying about some sort of training. The dream had been too realistic, too filled with all of my favorite things to have been anything other than the most perfect dream that any woman has ever had the pleasure of dreaming.

Unfortunately, someone chose to wake me from said dream by flipping on the light and nudging my foot.

Let it never be said that I am a light sleeper, as Mr. Logan learned- and quickly.

The familiar comforter was thrown off of me in a rush and I sat straight up in bed, eyes wide and foot kicking out immediately against whatever had dared touch me. Of course, this caused Mr. Logan to stare at me in amusement for a long moment before he simply laughed and cocked an eyebrow in my direction.

Without even thinking, I grabbed the alarm clock from the night stand and chucked it at him, hoping to scowl him into oblivion. Much to my surprise it worked.

It worked a bit too well.

"Mr. Logan!" I bellowed as I tripped over the sheets in order to stumble toward the man that _now_ laid outside of my room, his head stuck in the plaster of the wall. A shriek escaped my lips as he rolled onto his feet almost instantly, the damaged alarm clock in one hand and my wrist in the other. "Mr. Logan?" I gulped, staring up at him and wondering why I hadn't thought to go to the bathroom _before_ taking on a man with the code name Wolverine.

"It's Logan, kid. Drop the Mister," he growled, shoving the alarm clock at me and causing me to fumble for it as he glared at me. Slowly, he released my wrist and rubbed at his chest, almost absently. "Mind tellin' me how you managed t' do that?" he grumbled.

Blanching instantly, I glanced down at the completely destroyed alarm clock and shook my head. "No, uh, sir."

"Kid, I ain't no drill sergeant. I can be, but until you cross that line you call me Logan. Got it?" he demanded, growling slightly as I took a step back and nearly tripped over my own feet.

Luckily, I managed to smartly rap my head against the doorjamb before slipping inside of my room and tossing the alarm clock onto the bed. "Sorry," I tossed over my shoulder as I went to shut my door, only to have the man stop it with the toe of his boot. Stunned, I merely stared at him.

"Wasn't wakin' you to interrupt yer beauty sleep, kid. Got a Danger Room session in five. Suggest you haul yer ass down there or I will have to become a drill sergeant." Then, as if noticing my look of surprise, he nudged the door open further and jerked a thumb in the direction of a number of boxes that were stacked haphazardly against the wall. "Put the suit on and git going."

Then, without a word of warning he was stalking down the hallway and barking orders at the guys that had decided to see what all of the noise was about.

Of course, it was then that I closed the door and turned my attention to the large collection of boxes.

It wasn't exactly my fault that I reacted so horribly the moment that I took notice of the strange article of clothing sitting atop the boxes. Still, I was slightly dazed as I walked over and picked it up, barely eyeing the boots.

Someone was playing a cruel joke on me, I knew it.

Unfortunately, Professor Xavier said that I'd have to pay the carpenters for the hole I put in the wall.

I just wanted a new window, right?

* * *

**A/N:** Super special thanks to Certh for her awesome and heartfelt review.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **X-Men are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel. If I owned them, don't you think that I would have better things to do with my time than write crap like this?

**Story Notes:** Story is post X1 in the Movie-'verse and will ignore X2 and X3. My world, folks. This story includes an OC of my own creation. Dani Evans is mine and if you try to steal her, I'll have to release the giant ear-eating maggots that I have in a bucket outside. I've based her personality off of my own, so expect a bit of an enigma. There will be _no_ OC romance in this story. Dani's your average eighteen year old with real problems and a real life. There will, however, be CanonXCanon relationships that are going on in the background. Note: Story may include Jean-bashing.

**Rating: **Story is T for language, suggestive content, and possible brief nudity.

**Normalcy is Overrated:** She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**-Chapter Six-**_

What John had failed to mention was the fact that I'd have to wear some awful leather sex kitten suit down to the scary hall with silver everything. He also failed to mention that when he said I'd be practicing with some Jr. X-Men that he actually meant that I would be in some weird room with a scary name and staring at two very unfriendly looking figures.

Of course, he also failed to mention that I wouldn't be practicing with them until after they'd seen what I could do in a controlled setting.

Personally, I thought that their idea of a controlled setting was pretty disturbing. It didn't matter if the Wolverine fellow claimed that he could heal, and easily. All that mattered was that between him and Colossus, I was ready to scream.

"Danielle, there is no reason to be scared," Cyclops, visor shining, informed me as he walked into the huge room. It bothered me that I couldn't see his eyes, and I briefly wondered if he was crossing his eyes at me and mocking me with his eyes alone. Unfortunately, I would never know. "Wolverine and Colossus are virtually unstoppable, so you won't have to worry about hurting them." The man rested a hand on my shoulder briefly before his lips thinned.

Immediately, I attempted to tug at the tight uniform, hoping that the heat that crept up my neck wasn't as obvious as it felt. "Thing's a little tight. Need a bigger size, I think," I managed as I cleared my throat gently.

"I'll work up an exercise schedule for you along with your training schedule," the man murmured quickly as he took a step back, merely staring at me as my jaw dropped comically. "You can join me this afternoon for a physical course, that way we can see where you're at physically."

Then, without a word of warning, he simply turned and left me in a room with two very unfriendly looking guys.

Immediately, I scoffed my booted feet and took a step or two backwards, crossing my arms over my chest in an attempt to ward off their gazes. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to work. In fact, Wolverine looked rather bored and cocked a brow in my direction as I stared intently at anything but them.

"He ain't jokin' 'bout the schedules, kid," it was Wolverine that broke the silence. "Ladies uniforms don't come in a bigger size than that." A smile accompanied his statement, but that didn't make it any less callous.

"Then how did they find one to fit you?" I quipped, snarling slightly.

Surprisingly, it was the big metal one, Colossus, that chuckled at my comment. Of course, his gift from me was a cheeky smile. I could deal with Peter just fine. It was Colossus that gave me the chills.

"Danielle, we would like you to attempt to activate you powers here in the Danger Room."

_God?_ I found myself thinking as my hands fell to my sides, and I nearly fell over. "Uh, right?"

A chuckle echoed in the large room and I could hear other people talking as Professor Xavier caught my attention again. "We are merely observing you from the Observation Room, my dear." I followed Wolverine's gaze to an area high off of the floor and merely waved at the large array of people. "The computer will give us a readout and we will be able to further understand your abilities after this. So, please attack the men in front of you."

It might have seemed natural for someone to merely nod at the man's instruction and then attack the two men in front of them, but I was far from normal. In fact, I could only stare at both Wolverine and Colossus in absolute horror as I shook my head abruptly. "Uh, I think I'll pass. Can I have breakfast now?" I asked hesitantly.

It must have been the signal for them to move into action, because suddenly Wolverine was stalking toward me like we were on the mats, or on the court. Either way, he was a scary sight and I wanted nothing more than to turn tail and run. But, run where? The room didn't have any doors!

"Come on, kid. Try me," he ordered, snarling at me and revealing slightly elongated incisors. Of course, it was then that the strange sound of metal brushing against metal filled the large room and I found myself letting out a choked cry. "What? These things scarin' ya?" he teased, twisting his right hand this way and that so that bright metal _claws_ caught the light.

No, I'm not lying. The hairy dude with a temper was actually coming at me with claws.

I reacted like any normal female would the moment that he reached for my hand, or so I liked to think. I snaked a hand out and shoved him away.

Hence the reason why Wolverine had flown through the air only to land some many feet away from the ever-quiet Colossus. Surprisingly, Wolverine was back on his feet immediately and glaring at me with a new found sense of what I feared to be hatred. Thankfully, the man let out a slight laugh that informed me that he didn't hate me, but instead was probably surprised?

"Gonna guess some super strength's involved, Chuck," he announced, I guessed to Professor Xavier and the others.

"Danielle, do you remember what you were doing when the roof suffered... such damage?" the voice of Professor Xavier echoed through the room as I brushed a strand of dark brown hair out of my eyes.

Briefly, I thought back to the night that I'd lost it all and nodded my head quickly. "Got a little excited when me and the rest of the team was cheering," I informed him, or rather all of them, with a grim frown. "Just remember feeling really hyped up and feeling this weird... _spasm_ cause my hands to like shake," I muttered, more or less completely confused.

"Danielle, try a number of hand motions in the direction of Colossus and Wolverine, please," the voice ordered, though kindly.

I may have laughed for a moment or two, I don't quite remember. But, I do remember suddenly realizing that it wasn't all a huge joke. These people were _mutants_. I was a _mutant_. It was a very grim realization that caused me to merely stare at the two men in front of me with horror evident on my face.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time to wave my hands around, but nothing seemed to work. I flung my hands about in every which way, and yet nothing worked. It was frustrating.

"Danielle, the majority of mutants' powers are tied to their actual emotions. I know that it sounds rather far fetched, but perhaps the process would be a bit less difficult if you got mad at these two?" the voice echoed yet again.

My eyes rolled in my head automatically, and my hesitation is what caused me to merely stand in place as Colossus launched himself toward me. The evil metal thing slammed me across the room easily, and I could only howl as I skidded across the floor painfully. I found myself regretting the fact that I'd been breaking my own forced diet and eating a lot of snacks since arriving at Xavier's School for the Gifted. In fact, I found myself immediately regretting my binge the night before on an entire bag of Oreos.

Because as I struggled to my knees, I found myself reminiscing with those same Oreos as they spewed forth from my mouth like chocolate lava. My gut clenched over and over again as I braced myself on the palms of my hands and heaved over and over again. It was painful, it burned, and I found myself almost crying.

"You okay, kid?" a rough voice asked gruffly, and I shivered at the feel of warm leather against the back of my neck. Somehow, however, I managed a slight nod and I let the man pull me to my wobbly feet as I wiped the back of my hand over my mouth. "Damn, that fucking reeks," he hissed.

Almost blindly, I looked down at the vomit and then up at him. "Note to self: kill inventor of Oreos." Groaning, I shrugged the man's arm off of my shoulder and turned completely, shuddering slightly as I managed a deep breath. "Sorry about that," I managed as I took a step back, suddenly aware that the rather angry looking Wolverine was trying to glare me into the ground.

Maybe it was the suddenly empty stomach. Maybe it was the fact that I actually _slipped_ in my own vomit and fell on my butt.

Or maybe it was the chuckle that echoed through the room at my expanse.

Either way, my flailing hands led the Professor to inform me that I was never allowed to play rock, paper, scissors in his house.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks yet again to Certh for her awesome review!


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **X-Men are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel. If I owned them, don't you think that I would have better things to do with my time than write crap like this?

**Story Notes:** Story is post X1 in the Movie-'verse and will ignore X2 and X3. My world, folks. This story includes an OC of my own creation. Dani Evans is mine and if you try to steal her, I'll have to release the giant ear-eating maggots that I have in a bucket outside. I've based her personality off of my own, so expect a bit of an enigma. There will be _no_ OC romance in this story. Dani's your average eighteen year old with real problems and a real life. There will, however, be CanonXCanon relationships that are going on in the background. Note: Story may include Jean-bashing.

**Rating: **Story is T for language, suggestive content, and possible brief nudity.

**Normalcy is Overrated:** She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**Chapter Seven**_

I'd probably be the first person to admit that I wasn't in the greatest shape of my entire life. I mean, didn't the love handles give that fact away the moment that _Dr._ Jean Grey made me strip down to my skivvies in her little office when she did the whole physical routine? Why couldn't she pass that news along to her little fiancé Cyclops so that I wouldn't have to feel so stupid in front of _them_, all of them?

It wasn't fair, I knew that. None of it was fair. But if life was fair I probably would have actually been back at home. At practice.

But, life wasn't fair, it wasn't fair at all. Which probably should have explained why I was in the Danger Room again just hours after my first visit. This time, at least, I didn't have to wear the blasted leather that made me feel like some overgrown troll with a thumb up my own ass.

I probably wouldn't have minded the fact that I was getting a physical evaluation if it wasn't for the fact that Scott, or _Cyclops_ as he insisted that I call him, actually made me put on a pair of butt-hugging shorts and a tank top that I know wasn't school-regulation. After all, there was a reason why I'd refused to do the jumping jacks.

"You seem to be in pretty good shape for a girl... your size," he murmured to himself as I dropped onto the floor in front of him, chest heaving as sweat dripped into my eyes. "You ran the mile in less than two minutes, so I'm obviously surprised."

"I tried telling you before that I just look fat and out of shape," I muttered, more so to myself than him because he was obviously too busy jotting more useless information down on that blasted clipboard to actually pay attention to me. "What's next, oh fearless leader? I've done weight training, running, coordination tests..." I trailed off, sucking down as much water as I could before he took the bottle of water away again.

The clipboard was shuffled into his left hand as he adjusted his dark shades only slightly, as if only suddenly noticing that I was still in the room with him. "Your B.M.I. indicates that you are still overweight, despite the fact that you appear to be in excellent shape, Danielle. Therefore, you are going to be enrolling in Cyclops' personal training regime." A groan escaped my lips even as staggered to my feet, tugging at my shorts in order to remove them from... well, you know. "Is there a problem, Danielle?"

"I start school in a couple of days and you're trying to tell me that I'm fat and I have to exercise and all of this crap? I mean, I don't really get why. Don't you have PE classes or something for people like me?" I muttered, frowning at the floor as I scoffed my white shoots along the shiny floor.

"Danielle, training is important. This will allow us to eventually work with you on your powers and your combat training as well as..." he'd continued, but I'd already zoned out.

My mind was still trying to wrap around the words _combat training_ as he yammered on and on about who knows what. I just couldn't work through it at first, but then everything began to dawn on me rather quickly.

These people, these X-Men, didn't dress up in leather and parade around a fancy school for mutants for the heck of it. Normal schools didn't have fancy equipment like the Danger Room and a medical facility that probably would have given most doctors wet dreams. No, these people were serious.

"So, you're trying to tell me that I'm going to be trained?" I interrupted suddenly, blinking out of my own daze to realize that the man had been calling my name.

His jaw clenched slightly and he nodded his head. "The Professor sees a great deal of promise in you, Danielle, as do I. We both think that someday you will make a fine addition to the team."

_Was anyone ever planning on telling me that?_ I wondered to myself as I chewed on my lip thoughtfully. Yeah, another bad habit other than breaking things rather often. "I thought that I was here to like... go to school."

"There is that, but there's also this opportunity," he explained calmly. "Of course, you will be given the chance to decide whether or not something like the X-Men is what you are ultimately interested in, Danielle."

"Why can't I decide now?" I asked, tensed slightly. "I mean, don't you think it's pretty presumptuous of everyone to just assume that I actually _want _to join up and play the part of a hero? It's just kind of messed up."

He was quiet for a long moment, and part of me wondered if he'd heard my question at all. "Danielle, we all think that this opportunity is something that you should not pass up. As long as you are attending this School, it is something that we will come to expect from you. Can you handle that?" he asked, almost airily.

I couldn't help but eye the man in front of me incredulously as I fought the urge to throw the bottle of water at his head. _They_ had changed my life and yet I didn't have a choice in anything? How was any of it actually fair?

Hell, was it even _legal_?

"Fine, Cyclops," I bit off as I took his proffered hand and pulled myself to my feet, relying less on his strength and more on mine simply because I didn't want to pull him down on top of me. "What's that?" I asked as he flipped through a few pages on the clipboard.

"Simply looking through the physical that Jean gave you," he explained calmly. "Brown hair that reaches mid back, brown eyes that require reading glasses," he continued on, with me merely glaring at him. "Stands at six foot one, impressive; weight- one eighty-six." There it was again, that frown that curled his lips as he glanced at me. "I wasn't expecting it to be that much."

"You people really have _no_ tact, do you?" Honestly, I'd never been offended that many times in _one_ day in my entire life. I was beginning to wonder if I'd be better off just bailing and finding a way back to New Jersey. "Yes, Cyclops, we've been over the fact that I'm a big girl. Give me a a break, I hit the six foot mark. I'm an athlete, not a freaking model."

"I apologize," he managed, though I doubted that he was as sincere as he appeared to be. "I'll work up a schedule that will be worked in with your own schooling schedule. You can pick it up from the Professor's office tomorrow morning, bright and early. However, while your schooling starts Monday, your training starts tomorrow."

Groaning, I fought the urge to actually sink to the level to stomp my foot, and merely crossed my arms over my chest and followed the man out of the room. "What kind of training?" I whined.

"Physical training and conditioning with me. Hand to hand combat with Wolverine." There it was again. That _man's_ name.

Fear iced into my veins almost immediately at the thought of actually having practice sessions with my neighbor. After all, the man didn't seem to like me much. "Isn't there someone else? I mean, not that I don't like Mr. Logan and all, but I'd prefer to keep my body intact."

He paused as the rooms of the Danger Room slid open, offering me what I suspected to be a curious glance. Slowly, the man smiled, and my stomach knotted even more. "It's either me or Logan, and you don't want to spend that much time with me."

"Good point," I muttered.

Unfortunately, he managed to hear me and decided to exercise his control as an authority figure.

I got to run another mile.

* * *

**A/N: **Luckily, this was one of the few stories that didn't bite the dust when my flash drive died. Unfortunately, nearly every other story did and I'm feeling a little deserted. Feel free to review.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **X-Men are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel. If I owned them, don't you think that I would have better things to do with my time than write crap like this?

**Story Notes:** Story is post X1 in the Movie-'verse and will ignore X2 and X3. My world, folks. This story includes an OC of my own creation. Dani Evans is mine and if you try to steal her, I'll have to release the giant ear-eating maggots that I have in a bucket outside. I've based her personality off of my own, so expect a bit of an enigma. There will be _no_ OC romance in this story. Dani's your average eighteen year old with real problems and a real life. There will, however, be CanonXCanon relationships that are going on in the background. Note: Story may include Jean-bashing.

**Rating: **Story is T for language, suggestive content, and possible brief nudity.

**Normalcy is Overrated:** She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**Chapter Eight**_

"So, is it pretty common for guys to parade around in their boxers twenty-four-seven?" I managed with a grunt as I rapped my head against my closed bedroom door repeatedly. "I'd really like to be able to take a shower in the morning without having to worry about some guy trying to walk in on me. On purpose."

"Kid, who the hell you talkin' to?" a familiar voice drew me out of my reverie, and I looked to the side to find Mr. Logan staring at me intently. "The hell you walking around in a bathrobe for? Ain't you seen the boys a lookin'?"

My eye twitched slightly as I righted myself and stared at the man. "Those little creeps tried to sneak in on me, Mr. Logan. Now apparently it's my fault that one of them went through a door and hurt his arm." Okay, so maybe I had been a little rough when I'd pushed him, particularly considering that I'd hoped that my so-called super strength would kick in. "This place is just full of peeping toms."

This seemed to get his attention, and if the snarl on his face was any indication, someone was going to get a firm talking to. "Who was it?" he growled.

"That Ryan boy and his friend Matt," I mumbled, watching as a shirtless Mr. Logan cracked his neck almost violently. "Hey, where are you going?" I squealed, running after him and stopping him as I placed a hand on his arm.

"They're just a few doors down, hiding. Sayin' somethin' bout you catchin' Rick off guard?" those eyes were on mine again and I shuddered. "Really put the kid through a door? I'm impressed."

Then, he shrugged off my hand and stormed down the hall, literally kicking open a door and slamming it shut behind him. No, I couldn't hear what happened in there as I made a quick dash back to my room, but the evidence would later point to the man actually putting the fear of God into them.

Unfortunately, it would take a lot longer for the other boys in the hall to get the hint.

XoXoXoXoXoX

"Yer holdin' back, kid."

Gasping for breath, I rolled out of the way and narrowly avoided being pummeled by the large man's fist as he went for me yet again. "Holding back? Are you crazy? I'm trying to stay _alive_!"

He laughed, surprisingly, and paused. The mats under our feet dipped slightly under his weight as the man simply dropped to his behind, legs crossed Indian style in front of him. "Sit, kid," he ordered, gruffly.

Two weeks had already passed, two weeks in which my life had somehow settled into an uncomfortable schedule. Professor Xavier, with the help of dearest Scott Summers, had prepared an actual schedule for me that laid out my days down to the wire. In fact, I think they'd even scheduled in suggested bathroom breaks somewhere.

I was immediately enrolled in five courses: mathematics, history, literature, chemistry, and art. I had math and art on Mondays and Wednesdays, and the other three on Tuesdays and Thursdays. It sounded okay to begin with, until Xavier factored in the daily sessions I had with dearest Cyclops every morning at five-thirty sharp and the sessions that I had with the Wolverine six days out of the week right after classes from three until four thirty.

Apparently the man preferred to have Sunday off, though I got the feeling that he wasn't a very religious man.

"Sounds good to me," I huffed as I fell down on the mats heavily, stretching my legs out in front of me before finally just rolling over onto my side. "I'm so tired. Go get me a candy bar and I won't tell the Professor that I caught you drinking beer in the Rec Room."

Idle threats, apparently, got me absolutely nowhere.

"Don't think so, Dani. Ol' One Eye told me about that diet he's got you on. Must be rough," he grunted, and I only slapped the side of my face against the mat roughly. "It ain't so bad is it, kid?"

"Except for the fact that I'm either in class or training for about twelve hours a day," I grumbled, rolling over onto my back and closing my eyes against the assault of the bright lights overhead. "Let's not forget the fact that apparently _everybody_ has a way to earn an allowance. So, lucky me gets to prepare dinner for the entire team every freaking night."

"Not that I'm mindin' that last tidbit. Ain't had someone to cook me a steak like you did last night in, well, don't rightly recall." If it was meant as a compliment, I merely grunted in reply as he nudged me with his foot. "Reckon it's tiring, but you'll get used to it."

"Just like I'll get used to these, right?" Lazily, I lifted a hand into the air and wiggled my fingers. "_They_ don't even know how to fully explain it, so how in the hell am I supposed to control it? Sounds a little far fetched to me."

As far as anyone or anything, including the sophisticated Danger Room computer, could tell, I had the odd ability to create actual seismic waves with my hands. Someone had said something at one point about another mutant with the same ability, but apparently she had to either smack her hands together or touch something in general to get the same affect. Needless to say, it left me feeling confused and more and more scared to continue looking for a way to control the weird ripples of energy that I seemed to be able to create with ease.

The familiar sound of metal scraping against metal met my ears and I looked over dully and watched as he examined a claw. "Think I'll ever get used to these, kid?" Yeah, I'd already tried the whole _"I'm not a kid"_ spiel and it had gotten me exactly nowhere. So I'd given up the fight already and merely accepted the fact that it was better than him sharing Scott's nickname with me. "We're different, that's really all there is to it."

"Why are you even here, Logan? I mean, Pete said something about you leaving a lot and not really liking to stick around, but he didn't explain why you bothered to stay around. Don't get me wrong, you're a nice guy and all, but why haven't you just bailed?" _Like I want to_, I added mentally as I rolled over onto my side again.

The claw disappeared and his eyes met mine instantly. "Pete tell ya what happened to Rogue up on Ellis Island?" Shakily, I nodded my head as he shook his. "I ain't had nothin' or no one for as long as I can remember. That kid- I made 'er a promise. I'm gonna stick around because while I'm needed, I ain't got nowhere better to go."

"Then- then it doesn't bother you that I could, possibly, kill someone by accident when I'm trying to wave at them?" Okay, so maybe it was bit much, but my dreams as of late had been haunted by accidentally killing one of my new friends. Then again, I'd had just as many about a certain art teacher posing for the entire class. Those weren't quite as bad.

"Kid, I could kill you right now without even blinking. Sure, I'd feel bad afterwards, probably hate myself for the rest of my life, but I could do it." The words were said without any emotion, and I could have sworn that the temperature in the room actually dropped a few degrees. "It ain't about whether or not you're dangerous, ya know. Lots of the kids here are. It's about gettin' over that and learning that other than the fact you're a mutant, you're still a person."

"Is that a speech that Xavier forced you to practice, or are you actually speaking from experience?" I murmured, almost so quietly that I hoped that he wouldn't hear me.

He did.

"People have always called me an animal. They've always told me that I'm a stupid animal that was just made to kill people. But, do ya think I believe that?" His eyes seemed to darken as he shook his head. "I ain't gonna lie and say that I'm the best person to talk to 'bout something like this, but I do know that it's rough. It's rough cause you're wondering whether or not some people are right and mutants are less than others."

"We're not," I whispered, a bit more forcefully this time. "I never thought about what it'd be like before- before that night. I was normal, you know? I mean, I was getting hyped up for a volleyball tournament that weekend. I was looking forward to the football game that night and the fact that I was actually going to go to the dance afterwards with this guy..." I trailed off, blushing suddenly when I realized that I'd, yet again, been rambling. "It's still just really hard for me to digest, I guess. Part of me is waiting for the other shoe to fall so that I can wake up and realize that it was all just some sort of a weird dream.

A snort echoed in the room as he rocked upwards and onto his feet gracefully. Surprisingly, the man offered me his hand and actually pulled me to my feet. "This whole X-Men thing seems like a game sometimes, but it ain't. Chuck's ideals might not be the wisest in my opinion, but don't get me wrong. I'm all for any side that's against war. War don't get us nowhere."

"You're talking about the Brotherhood, aren't you?" Another part of my curriculum was the semi-weekly meetings that I had with the Professor regarding mutant history. Of course, the meeting was supposed to be one wherein we spent the time talking about how I was adjusting, but the Professor tended to spend the majority of the time preaching. "Do you think that we have to worry about them? I mean, Magneto is in prison."

A long pause followed my question as he began to lead me out of the room. "Kid, that guy's probably one of the most powerful mutants on earth. If anyone's gonna find a way out of there, it's gonna be him. So yeah," his eyes met mine for a long moment before he shook his head. "We do need to be worrying about 'em. After all, why you think Scott's so damned set on you joining the team?"

"Because I can bring a sense of fulfillment and young leadership that is sorely lacking thus far?" I suggested, only half serious.

"No, more like the fact that we're gonna need ya. Hate the fact that we've actually got runts like Halfpint and Jubes lining up for this sort of thing, let alone Rogue." _So he doesn't mind as long as it's me and not them? _I thought to myself, frowning slightly as I exited the room behind the man and followed him to the elevator. "Don't get me wrong, don't much like the fact that you're involved at all. But, that's just how things are going to be until we can get everything under control."

"So I'm just another number to help fill out the lines then?" I murmured, still frowning.

The elevator doors closed behind us, and the sensation of it rising up through the bowels of the school made me grimace slightly. After all, the Wolverine's idea of a workout was grueling, to say the least. Amazingly, within seconds the doors were sliding open noiselessly and we were stepping out onto the first floor landing.

But, before I could walk any further, he stopped me in my tracks with his words. "We wanted t' fill out the lines, don't you think we got enough runts runnin' around to choose from?" I couldn't help but look over my shoulder at him, and I quickly noticed the uplifted brow. "Chuck saw potential in a kid that needed a place to go. Now, don't get me wrong. I don't much like the way he goes about recruitin', but he's got a point."

"That is?" I asked, merely glaring at him as he walked forward until he was almost standing beside me.

A grin crossed the man's lips that almost caused me to shudder in fear. "You got potential, kid. What kind, I ain't sure. But, I do know you ain't gonna reach that maximum potential anywhere but here. Yer a mutant, yer one of us." He patted my shoulder roughly and I nearly fell over. "You stink. Go shower and git to making dinner," he grunted.

Ah, the wonders of the world will never cease to amaze me.

* * *

**A/N:** No, I don't see Logan as OOC. Seems to me that he tends to respect people that respect him and know when to fear him. I reckon Dani sort of sees him as an older brother, maybe a scary uncle with claws sort of figure. Sorry for the long gap between updates. Been sick. Bleh. Thanks to _bethiex_ and _Certh_ for their reviews.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **X-Men are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel. If I owned them, don't you think that I would have better things to do with my time than write crap like this?

**Story Notes:** Story is post X1 in the Movie-'verse and will ignore X2 and X3. My world, folks. This story includes an OC of my own creation. Dani Evans is mine and if you try to steal her, I'll have to release the giant ear-eating maggots that I have in a bucket outside. I've based her personality off of my own, so expect a bit of an enigma. There will be _no_ OC romance in this story. Dani's your average eighteen year old with real problems and a real life. There will, however, be CanonXCanon relationships that are going on in the background. Note: Story may include Jean-bashing.

**Rating: **Story is T for language, suggestive content, and possible brief nudity.

**Normalcy is Overrated:** She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**Chapter Nine**_

"Okay, class, what is the solution to the problem on the board?" Mr. Summers glanced around the room, his lips thinned in obvious annoyance. "Does anyone know what x and y are?"

Bored, I merely tapped my pencil on the desk, drumming along to the beat of the song that was playing in my head. It wasn't so much that I was bored as that I was completely bored out of my mind. Scott's- Mr. Summer's math class was, at best, Algebra II material.

It wasn't until the boy next to me nudged me that I actually realized that someone had been saying my name. The green mechanical pencil clattered out of my hand and fell to the floor as I glanced to my right and frowned at none other than Bobby Drake.

"What?" I hissed, leaning over quickly and retrieving the pencil before straightening in the seat and dropping the pencil on the desk.

"Danielle?" a voice boomed, causing me to jump out of my seat slightly and face forward instantly. Mr. Summers was standing in front of the class, his arms crossed over his chest and a grim expression upon his face. "Danielle, I know that this must be terribly boring for you, class and all, but would you care to come to the board and solve this equation?"

I knew what he was doing. I knew the routine well.

He was trying to call me out in front of the class for daydreaming while he was preaching about the importance of solving a series of equations with different methods. I knew that I only had one choice and one choice alone.

"Sure, Mr. Summers," I murmured as I slid out of the desk and pulled on the hem of my shirt slightly. Eyes on the whiteboard, I walked forward as confidently as possible even as I felt dozens of eyes burn into the back of my head. "Thanks," was murmured as he handed me a red dry-erase marker and motioned for me to have at the equation.

Idly, I used my forefinger to push my familiar aqua and rouge reading glasses back up the bridge of my nose and stared at the equation for a moment. A smile crossed my features as I decided the best way to solve the three equations and got to work.

The sound of the marker streaking across the board was the only sound in the entire classroom as I worked out the problem one step at a time, clearly showing all of my work in a very precise manner. I may not have liked math, but I wanted to prove that I had a legitimate reason to be so bored out of my mind that I was actually tempted to simply daydream in _the fearless leader's_ class.

"Done." Grinning, I dropped the marker onto the ledge and turned, brushing invisible dust off of my hands as I glanced toward my teacher. "Next time, can you give me something a little harder?" I asked, completely serious.

Never before had I seen the man look so completely flabbergasted. The entire class seemed to agree as I made my way back to my desk, smiling at me as I seated myself at my desk between Bobby and Kitty. I dutifully placed my hands on the desk in a calm fashion, eyes trained forward on Mr. Summers.

He seemed indecisive for a moment before walking forward calmly, picking up the discarded marker, and scrawling on the board quickly. I couldn't see what he was writing, so when he stepped to the side surprise was probably evident on my face.

"What about this one, Ms. Evans?" he inquired, a dark brow lifted over his shades. "How would you go about solving this?"

You could have heard crickets chirping, but apparently someone had already cleared out that little prank left behind by John and Bobby. Thankfully. Instead, everyone seemed to be staring at me as I merely stared at the board at the front of the room.

A wry smile curled my lips as I lifted my brows in a challenging glint. "I would suggest finding the derivative of the equation first, Mr. Summers," I began, quickly explaining how _I_ would go about solving the complex equation.

The silence in the room seemed to erupt in a fit of confusion and laughter as the students around me became torn between cheering and laughing at me. But, it was Mr. Summers' reaction that was the greatest of all.

"You'd be right." The statement, though said through slightly clenched teeth, caused me to smile that much more. "Who would have guessed that a brain was hiding behind those eyes," he grinned.

Of course, it seemed to be the cue for the class to erupt in a fit of laughter. I, of course, remained motionless and waited for it to pass.

"Well, you would have known if anyone had bothered to actually open my school files. I was enrolled in AP Calculus in Jersey," I explained, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. "All AP courses, actually. So, this kind of reminds me of my freshman or sophomore year, to be honest."

As the laughter began again, this time at the teacher's response, I couldn't help but join in.

Of course, I did happen to forget that Mr. Summers was not only my teacher or just the leader of the X-Men, but he was _also_ my own personal drill sergeant.

Suddenly, starches were cut out of my diet.

XoXoXoXoX

"I, uh, I'm sorry Mr. Pete," I fumbled with an apology as I stared down at my sketchbook in shame. "I tried to draw the fruit, but it just wasn't working out."

The tall (and unbelievably gorgeous hunk of man) was standing in front of me, arms crossed over his (ever so gorgeous) chest. "Danielle, this is not the work that I asked from you, from all of the students," he managed, his accent causing me to stare at the sketchbook even more violently.

Yet, no matter how long I stared it just wouldn't transform into a perfect rendition of the fruit sitting on the pedestal in the center of the room.

Why couldn't I have gotten _that_ cool mutant power?

"I know, I know!" I bellowed, pouting as I heaved a great sigh and lifted my gaze slowly. "I just- I tried, I honestly did." The fruits of that horrible attempt had been ripped from the sketchbook and currently lay on the floor across the room near a potted plant. "You told us to draw what we were feeling when we saw the fruit and this is just what sort of happened, I guess."

The large man's blue eyes met mine for a long moment before he shook his head and sat upon the edge of the large table, eyeing me in a commanding manner. "Then explain this," he waved his hand toward the sketchbook. "Explain where this... feeling came from."

_Crap_.

Sucking in a deep breath, I stared down at the sketch instead of at the imposing man sitting on the table just a few feet away from me. "Well, I remembered seeing Sc- er, Mr. Summers last night in the kitchen, eating a pear. And I got to thinking that maybe that pear over there is now missing a brother, a cousin, whatever." Swallowing, I motioned shakily to the crudely drawn image of a figure wearing tinted glasses being chased by a giant pear with vampire-like teeth with a cape trailing behind it. "I- uh, it just sort of happened."

"I do not imagine that you found Mr. Summers fighting to the death against a villain in the kitchen, nyet?"

"No, sir," I murmured, hiding my face as I stared down at the sketch.

"Then why would you proceed to draw him in such a manner?"

"Because I suck at drawing figures for one," I explained, going for honesty rather than trying to find a way out of the hole that I'd already dug for myself. "I didn't want to see what I'd look like on paper and I didn't think I could manage to draw Mr. Logan."

At first, I thought that the laughter meant that I wouldn't fail the assignment.

Well, at least I passed, right?

* * *

**A/N:** I'm _super_ sorry for the long wait between updates. I really haven't been feeling like writing, so I've been holding some chapters hostage for inspiration. I'm trying to get back into the swing of things. Thanks to those that have reviewed the story!


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:**X-Men are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel. If I owned them, don't you think that I would have better things to do with my time than write crap like this?

**A/N:** Since this story was first created, it has taken a strangely different route from the one that I'd originally envisioned. It was meant to be a lighthearted, quirky adventure filled with silly one-liners and dopey scenes that anyone could relate to. However, in later chapters, I must admit that the story gets grittier, more realistic. Dani, I hope, remains severely IC as she deals with accepting her mutation and what role it will play in her life.

**Story Notes:** This story originally ignored X2 and X3, but that's changed. Many of the events in X2 will be acknowledge and _followed_ to some extent. Also, it should be noted that X-Men Origins will be _acknowledged_ in some way, shape or form.

**Rating**_**: **_Story is T for language, suggestive content, and possible brief nudity.

_**Normalcy is Overrated: **_She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**Chapter Ten**_

"So, you and Bobby are together, right?" I asked, glancing over my shoulder at the girl sitting on the counter near the fridge even as I continued to stir the spaghetti sauce. "I'm just curious," I assured her.

"Yeah, we're togetha," she murmured, two stripes of white shielding her face from view even as she turned her head to the side. I still couldn't decide if she was just shy or if she didn't like me. Either would have been acceptable. "He's a nice guy."

"He's not half bad, I guess," I agreed, lifting a shoulder in a shrug as I continued to stir in a figure eight pattern. "He'd be a bit more agreeable if it weren't for the fact that he's got that whole Cyclops lite thing going on for him. Does he really want to be like the guy or is that all just a facade of some sort?"

A snort erupted from the girl, nearly causing me to drop the spoon in surprise. "Ah've wondered the same thing quite a few times mahself. Nah, Ah think he's just tryin' to prove somethin'. He was one of the first younger students, ya know. 'Fore him Ah heard it was just Scott, Jean, and Storm. Reckon he was one of the first."

"Still, this business of him trying to tell me what to do isn't going to go over well for very much longer. Oh, Danger Room sessions, cool." I lifted a brow in her direction. "But the next time that he actually walks into my room _without _knocking, demanding that I go do some bull crap sort of job, I'm going to put him through a wall." Picking up the spoon that was dribbling pasta sauce, I pointed it in her direction. "Better tell him that before I do."

A lesser person might have crumbled under the girl's unflinching gaze, but I merely watched as she slid off of the counter and her feet thumped against the floor softly. "He's mah boyfriend, but that don't mean Ah like being bossed around by 'im either. So Ah get it." A genuine grin stretched across her pale features as she sidled up to the large range stove and glanced toward the array of pots and kettles. "Don't know why Ah got roped into helping."

"Helping? So _that's_ what you're supposed to be doing." I snorted, my attention once again back on the stove. "I was beginning to think that it was merely to invade the kitchen and provide a wonderful commentary about every single thing that I'm doing, regardless of whether you think it's done right or wrong." Of course, it was said with a careful playfulness that I was sure she could appreciate.

After all, while the girl was still wearing gloves I was in no way inclined to discover exactly how powerful her killer touch was.

"Ah usually do laundry, but Doc Grey finally realized it was meh that'd been starchin' her panties," Rogue snorted as she leaned a lean hip against the counter and merely watched as I continued to stir the contents of the large kettle. "Somethin's smelling awful good."

"Probably the garlic bread," I motioned vaguely with my left hand to the large oven near the refrigerator. I'd always dreamed of having the duo-esque ovens that were built into the wall, but I'd never expected to ever have one. "The cook got the French bread for me and I made it up myself. You'll like it," I assured her as I wrinkled up my nose and stirred the noodles carefully.

"Ah still don't get why we all just don't eat with the rest of the kids, ya know? Ah mean, Ah get that it's supposed to be like bondin' and stuff, but it's a bit much sometimes. Think Ah'd like t' just have dinner for once without havin' to worry 'bout impressing people." All in all, she looked about as happy with the situation as I felt.

"Impressing people? If that's what we're supposed to be doing I'm pretty sure that I'm failing rather miserably," I remarked, snorting slightly as I glanced at the clock on the large microwave. "I think the only person I've managed to impress is Cyclops, and he was only impressed by the fact that I'm not as dumb as I look."

"Ah don't think yah look dumb, if that's any consolation," she shrugged, rubbing her gloved hands together slightly as she moved about the kitchen. "Ah'm gonna set the table. Yoar gonna handle the salad, right?"

Nodding, I continued to stir the noodles lazily as I eyed the large bowl of lettuce and friends that sat on the counter nearby. The lettuce had already been washed, the fixings already added. It simply needed to be tossed and the dressing added. "Sure, no problem. Make sure you don't put the steak knife at Mr. Logan's spot. Last time he thought I was challenging him or something and threw the thing at me."

That, I'm afraid, had turned out rather poorly.

Some half an hour later, thankfully, we all sat around the table ensconced in a rather comfortable silence as food was ladled onto plates and into bowls and the quiet crunching of chewing began. While I was certain that chicken parmesan was not the finest meal, it certainly was delicious, if the quietness was any indication.

"Thanks for the steak, kid," Logan grunted from across the table as he used a claw to cut into his steak. Sure, he was enjoying the pasta as well, but the only time he dealt with chicken was when it was barbecued or fried. "How much longer till you've got the Prof paid off?"

"Another three years, if I'm counting right," I grumbled as I forked some salad and shoved it into my mouth. Thanks to Mr. Summers' diet plan, I wasn't allowed to have anything that even remotely tasted good. After the little fiasco in class, all carbohydrates had been cut out completely and I was beginning to think that bread was the most important item missing in my life. "I still say I should be able to have some chicken," I whined.

"Yes, well, you should have thought about that before you attempted to go off of your diet before dinner, Danielle," Scott Summers shook his head in a disapproving manner as he slurped up a bit of the spaghetti noodles. Daintily, he dabbed his chin and met my gaze, I think. "Really, you acted like a child earlier."

"She just wanted some of the dang ol' food she was cookin', Cyclops," Rogue spoke up for me, surprisingly. Seated next to her beloved frigid boyfriend that obviously did not like me, she looked more like a child than an adult. Still, Summers glanced in her direction briefly before lifting his glass of wine and taking a long sip. "And yah gotta admit, her food sure is better than Jube's."

Jubilee, as I had learned rather quickly, was a sometimes Jr. X-Man. Why sometimes? Well, sometimes Jubilee got on Cyclops' nerves so bad that he gave her the boot, only to relent in a few days time and let her back on the team if only for his own sanity. Still haven't figured that one out, but at least the kid isn't a complete moron like Drake.

"Hey, you weren't like complainin' that time I made pizza." Brightly covered pafs seemed to escape from her fingertips, and I winced slightly as I dodged and bumped my head into John's arm before I continued eating. "Oops, sorry, Dan-Dan."

Then, the laughter began.

"Dan-Dan," Bobby echoed, grinning slightly as his icy blue eyes met mine. "Wanna pass me the salt?"

Grimacing, I dropped my fork and let it clink against the side of the bowl before picking up the salt shaker. "Oh, you mean this, Fudgecicle?"

This time, it was my turn to watch him grimace. Unfortunately, I'd forgotten that Bobby was rather handy with his mutation. Which, of course, led to him literally freezing the salt shaker to my hand and me freaking out and somehow getting salt in my eye.

As I quickly discovered when I jumped to my feet, screeching, arm-flailing at the dinner table will most _certainly_ get you tackled by the resident Colossus. Hey, at least I didn't take out the chandelier!

* * *

**A/N:** Finally, another chapter! The good news is that this project is officially complete. So, the chapters will be coming out as quickly as I can edit them (by myself! Whiiiine). Also, ooga booga. (:


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:**Tired of claiming they're not mine when, deep down, they are! Mwahahaha! I shall cuddle Sabretooth to death. (:

**Story Notes:** This story originally ignored X2 and X3, but that's changed. Many of the events in X2 will be acknowledge and _followed_ to some extent. Also, it should be noted that X-Men Origins will be _acknowledged_ in some way, shape or form.

**Chapter Notes:** Yes, this chapter does jump ahead two months. Why? Because the transition is needed. It's not one that can be approached slowly, and hopefully it flows well enough that it's fine. To be honest, this chapter is the first time I'd touched the story since it was last updated. So, in a way, chapters eleven through (I believe) twenty-eight plus the epilogue sort of take on a life of their own.

_**Normalcy is Overrated: **_She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**Chapter Eleven**_

"Two months. Already."

Slowly, I nodded my head as I ran my fingertips over the bedspread, eyes trailing over my newly redecorated room. When I'd first moved in, it had been bland and very plain. I hadn't planned on actually staying at the Xavier Institute, and it had taken nearly a month before I'd finally accepted that I wasn't going anywhere soon.

"I think it fits me a bit better now," I admitted as I walked over to the oversized desk, glancing briefly at the array of memories displayed proudly in brightly colored picture frames. "I didn't think I'd make it this long, Rogue. This place will never be home."

"Ah don't think that's the point," she plopped down gracefully on an overstuffed neon green bean bag. Legs crossed lazily, she swept back her silky-looking black scarf and tugged at her ever-present gloves in what appeared to be apprehension. "You're kinda lucky though, Dani. Lot o' us are runaways, whose folks don't give a shit one way or another 'bout where they are. When mah folks realized there was somethin' wrong 'bout their little southern belle, they were all aflutter."

I'd had very few _real_ best friends over the course of eighteen and a half years, but something told me that Rogue was opening up to me in a way that she'd opened up to so few others. Over the course of several weeks, we'd spent more time in one other's company than I'd thought possible. In the beginning, she had seemed so vacant, so distant and lost. I had assumed, due to her attachment to her snobby boyfriend, that she was just annoying. But, once I had started spending time with her, in and out of the Danger Room, I'd realized that we had a lot more in common than I would have ever thought possible.

"Rumor has it that you were a serial killer that barely escaped the police," I offered, half-smiling as I dropped down into a sitting position on a fluffy rug, back braced against the side of my bed.

A faint smile curled her unpainted lips as she tilted her head to the side slightly. "No, it ain't nothin' so dramatic as that. My boyfriend and Ah. We. Well, we were just hangin' out in mah room. Don't gimme that look, Dani." Her eyes narrowed into slits briefly as I wagged my brows at her comically. "It wasn't nothin' like that. Might've been a few months down the road. Was still new, ya know? We were still in that gettin' to know each other sort've awkward phase. Well, anyway." She clenched her gloved hands together tightly, her gaze drifting away from mine to stare unseeingly at a spot just over my shoulder. "We ended up kissin', and that's when it happened for the first time."

"I'm so sorry, Rogue," I murmured, gut clenching. I felt awkward and pitiful and sorry for her all at the same time. "That's not fair. That sucks, actually," I swallowed thickly, offering her what I hoped was a comforting smile.

Surprisingly, she lifted her gaze to mine yet again, her sad and aged eyes brightening slightly. "Ah couldn't do nothin', ya know? Ah was so nervous, so excited. Wasn't exactly mah first kiss, but Ah wanted it to be. Mah first had been the summer before, down by the river with this kid that was gropin' meh and damn near dry-humpin' mah leg. Ah wanted it to be mah first kiss. Ah think that's why Ah didn't realize what was happenin' at first." She sighed heavily as she curled her knees up toward her chest, her brightly colored socks wiggling as she curled her toes. "Ah couldn't stop it. He's still up here. In mah head."

I wanted to offer her some words of wisdom, comfort her in a way that a friend should. _We are friends_, I decided, brow furrowed as I drummed my fingertips on the shaggy rug I sat upon. _I should be able to help her, help her feel better._ I strained to think of a possible scenario that would help her, that would show her exactly how much I appreciated her friendship, no matter how tentative it was on the inside and out.

My last best friend had been the best setter I'd ever met. Alysha Parkins. She had been smart, perky, and so damned focused that she looked like a robot whenever we were on the court. We were in a total of four camps together, and spent over three years from junior high to senior high on the same team. We'd stayed at one another's houses, did make overs, practiced our jump serves, and even talked about boys together. But, that had been before the beginning of an off-season game with a volleyball club we were both participating in. The match was about to begin, and she was missing.

Of course, I'd been the one to find her in the bathroom, passed out next to the toilet with blood and vomit all over her uniform.

The questions had begun, had been slung every which direction even as the ambulance came and carted her away. Hadn't I noticed her strange eating habits? Was Alysha a compulsive eater? Did she exercise too much? Had she tried influencing my own exercise or eating habits? Was she ever depressed? Did she talk about suicide? Was there a reason why she had hidden her eating disorder from her best friend?

"_**Sometimes the people you think you know best are the people that you know the least. Appearances can be deceiving, and the truth is often easier hidden than it is found. Honesty, baby. Honesty is the only thing that will get you through this rough world in one piece."**_

Deciding that my grandmother's advice was probably the only way to handle the situation, I slowly rolled forward onto my hands and knees and crawled across the distance between me and the beanbag. Abruptly, I dropped down onto the bean bag next to her, ignoring the way that she shifted to the side slightly, despite the fact that we both wore jeans, hooded sweaters, socks, and gloves (in her case). After a long moment of silence, I finally worked up the nerve to look over at her.

"Rogue, I don't know a lot about you. I know that you'll be nineteen a month after me, that you hate toothpaste that isn't actually mint-flavored, and that you love listening to some of the worst stations on the radio." She smiled faintly and rested her cheek on her knees as she stared at me. I was struck by how young and vulnerable she looked, like the younger sister I had always wanted but never received under the tree at Christmas. "You love some down home country cooking, and you're determined that someday the whole world will know the greatness that is grits. But, seriously. Ew. And ew. They're nasty. You hate the way that people unconsciously distance themselves from you in the halls, the way that someone will walk clear across the library instead of sharing a table with you. But, that's okay." Smiling, I folded my legs and struggled to get more comfortable, even as the stuffing and such inside of the bean bag made strange noises. Legs folded Indian-style, I hid my hands in the sleeves of my hooded sweatshirt and sucked in a deep breath. "All of the sitcoms and teen novels make these out to be the best years of our lives. They might be right, or they might be wrong. What I do know is that I haven't been the type of person to beat around the bush in a very long time. You're a nice person, Rogue. A great person. We're all thrown some crappy curveballs in our lives; yours is just aiming at you like a body-shot."

"Is that some sort've baseball crack?" she grunted, rolling her eyes.

Grinning, I nodded my head. "My mom died when I was ten- labor complications. It killed my dad inside. Sometimes I'm glad Wilson– that's what they named my brother– didn't make it. Because I know it would have killed him to look at that baby everyday for the rest of his life. I was an Army brat, still kinda feel like one now that I'm here. My dad died three years ago in a training exercise gone awry, but I've lived with my grandma since my eleventh birthday. I know what it's like to be handed a handful of crap and told to make something beautiful."

"And I want you to know that no matter how crazy I might seem, no matter how off I might be from day to day, I will be here for you." It felt cheesy, and sounded even cheesier, but if Alysha had taught me anything it was that there was no rooms for niceties, and that awkwardness wasn't something that could destroy a real friendship. "Rogue, I consider you to be one of my few friends here, and seeing as how my grandma thinks I need to stay here, I guess you're stuck with me until graduation."

Slowly, she lifted her head and brushed a platinum strip of hair behind her ear, her lips curling into a smile that revealed a small gap between her two front teeth. "Dan," she began, using the nickname that she'd started using somewhere along the way. "It's Marie."

Confusion flitted across my features as I narrowed my eyes at her, brows furrowed together. "Excuse me?"

Shaking her head, she playfully shoved my shoulder, nearly causing me to topple over sideways in my confusion. "Mah name. It's Marie."

"_**Friends aren't like some fancy television set that you can sit in the living room and ignore whenever you have better things to occupy your time. They're like plants; they need sunlight, attention, and love. You give 'em just one of those three, and they just might survive. But they sure as hell do flourish properly with all three."**_

Smiling as the topic switched to training, I realized that Grandma Janie had been right again.

XoXoXoXoX

"**And how are they treating you?"**

"Just fine, Grandma, I promise."

"_**You sure? I could've sworn last week when that Mr. Summers called that I heard you yelling about something in the background."**_

Grimacing, I slouched in the uncomfortable desk chair and stared up at the ceiling. I hadn't realized until after I'd stormed into Summers' office that he'd been on the phone, and with my grandma of all people. "I just wanted to talk to you and he didn't understand my rush," I struggled to explain, curling my toes against the warm wooden floor. "How have you been?"

"_**Oh, fine. You know how the weather gets over here this time of year. I can't believe Thanksgiving is coming up so fast. I reckon this'll probably be the first year since you were still in diapers that you're not gonna be stuffing yourself with my food."**_

In response, my stomach growled so loudly that I almost thought she had to hear it. I shifted in the chair slightly, struggling to find a more comfortable position as I glanced at my partially open door. "A lot of the students are going home this year to visit with their families, Grandma. But, well, Mr. Xavier was telling me about this thing that happens over the Holidays." Spinning around in the desk chair, I stared at my neatly organized desk for a moment, eyes trailing over my math homework to where my laptop sat, open and internet browser winking at me. "Apparently quite a few of the younger kids don't really have anywhere to go, and he takes a group to volunteer at a local soup kitchen. I was thinking that maybe-"

"_**Of course, baby. Lord knows how many hours you spent volunteering with me at the Red Cross and at the local church with my bridge club ladies. They all loved to see you tut around helping us count cans and organize fundraisers. You've always been so conscious about your community."**_

Grimacing, I picked up a pen and twirled it between my fingers idly. "You're sure that you can handle dinner without me? I know how rowdy everyone can get sometimes, and Uncle Lewis did just get off of probation..." I trailed off.

"_**Please, Danielle. Your Uncle Lewis was on probation cause he had a hooker in the backseat and a bottle of booze in the front. Thank the Lord Almighty that the car accident didn't hurt no one. I've been telling him for years to get help. So it took an act from Above to get it done? It's about damned time. Even as a boy I was always yelling at him to keep his thingy in his pants."**_

"Grandma!" I squealed breathlessly. Groaning, I covered my forehead with my palm, as if hoping that a sudden and violent fever would wrack through my body and give me a decent excuse to get off of the phone. Since enrolling officially at the Xavier Institute, my main means of communication with my grandma had been through letters, and occasional e-mails. Until the standard weekly care package had arrived the day before with an unfamiliar debit card and banking statements, along with a new iPod and cell phone, I hadn't even considered how strange it was that I hadn't kept in better contact. "Other than Uncle Lewis, are you really okay? Really really? Cause, I can come home. I will."

"_**I thought you liked it there?"**_

I did. Didn't I? Hunching my shoulders, I heaved a soft sigh. "I do like it here in a way. Everyone's like me; they're all mutants. It's nice knowing that, at the very least, I have one thing in common with everyone. The campus is gorgeous, Grandma. Did you get those pictures I e-mailed?" I quickly searched for the picture folder on my laptop, bringing up the pictures I'd taken weeks before.

"_**They all seem real nice, honey. That one with the hair, that's Marie?"**_

"Yep, that's her," I grinned, scrolling through the pictures. Under Xavier's advisement, I'd only sent pictures that could be viewed as innocuous. As far as the world outside of the Xavier Institute gates was concerned, it was a prep school for gifted youths; meaning a school for kids with rich parents, or kids who were _special enough_ to deserve the kindness of a rich man like Xavier. "I managed to snag a picture of the teachers on their off day."

"_**That tall one's a fine piece of man. If I was fifty years younger and didn't still love your granddaddy with all of my heart..." **_She trailed off, causing me to roll my eyes as my gaze focused on the impromptu picture I'd managed to snag of a tussled-looking Colossus. _**"I got some sort of a flyer about a Parent's Day the beginning of next month. Are you wanting me to fly on out?"**_

"Yes!" I shut the laptop abruptly and leaned back in the squeaky chair, running my hand through my damp hair. "I've already talked to Mr. Xavier about it, and he said that he can make arrangements for family that decide to visit. Apparently he has standing reservations at nearby hotels. So, if you decide that you want to, just give me a few week's notice and I'll sucker him into a nice room and maybe some spa time." I smiled at her warm and bubbly laughter.

"_**You know, baby, when he first sat down with me and explained that you was a mutant, I was a little scared. I'd suspected that something was different, that you were a little different. Hell, I'm pretty sure your momma was different too. That woman just had this way of always knowing where stuff was. Found a pair of earrings that had been lost for some five years like it was nothing. Just happened to come across them. Until that Mr. Xavier got to talking to me, I never really gave this mutant thing a second thought."**_

I swallowed thickly as I considered the implication of her words. While she'd never seemed angry or disgusted with me, I knew that it wasn't too unlikely that I might someday become yet another statistic. "I'm sorry, Grandma," I began softly, leaning forward to rest my elbow on the edge of the desk. "I didn't know or-"

"_**What on earth are you apologizing for, girl? How many times I gotta tell you that you're a damned Evans? We don't go around apologizing unless we done killed some folks or we owe money. And I'm pretty damned certain that being a mutant don't make it so that you owe someone money. Besides, those bigwigs on that television set are so damned ignorant they couldn't say shit if'n they had a mouthful."**_

Snorting, I found myself wishing that the others had met my grandmother. For a moment, I wondered exactly how the Jr. X-Men would take the vivacious woman that was seventy-three, didn't look a day over sixty, and had taken down two potential muggers with a purse filled with peppermints, medication, and her ever-present taser. Of course, at the time she hadn't thought to pull out the item and use it as a weapon, she'd been more concerned at swinging her heavy purse around like a mace.

Noise from the hallway drew my attention to my partially open door. Several figures ambled by and I released a short sigh as I pushed back from my desk and rose to my feet. "I know, Grandma. I just don't want you to get... I don't know. I know how some people around there can be. The whole world just isn't dealing with any of this properly. I don't want you to get swept up in it just because of me. It isn't fair."

"_**When I first met your granddaddy, his parents hated me. Even then people were still struggling to deal with color, with differences. Back then, even being half black was a sin. Sure, I'm lighter than my momma ever was, but I still got my daddy's black roots in me. That first meeting, they looked me right in the eyes and told me they didn't want their son dating no bi-racial gold digger like me. Please, baby. His family wasn't rich, just comfortable. But you know what? That day, I folded my hands in my lap, looked his momma in the eye, and told her I didn't give a damn. I loved him, and if the world didn't like it that was their problem."**_

Twiddling my thumbs, I thought of the great-grandparents that I could hardly even remember. They'd both passed away when before I was eight, and even trying to picture their faces was difficult. I'd never known that my grandma was biracial until my mid-teens when a neighborhood drunk had started harassing her. "There's nothing wrong with me. I'm starting to understand that," I offered, only half-believing it.

Through classes, as well as private meetings with Professor Xavier, I had finally come to understand and accept that I was a mutant. Yet, it had taken my grandma telling me that there was nothing wrong with me for it to really sink in.

"Grandma?" I murmured, running a hand through my still-damp hair.

"_**Yes, honey?"**_

Smiling, I closed my eyes and sent a silent prayer upwards. "Thank you."

"_**I love you, Danielle. I'll send along some cookies in the next care package. I got a letter about some sort of training regime to help with your mutating or some nonsense. You be sure to listen to that Mr. Summers, you hear?"**_

And groaning, I said goodbye. Even my grandma wanted me to suffer through Mr. Summers' torturous training.

* * *

**A/N:** If you or a loved one may be suffering from an eating disorder, there is no shame in seeking help. .org/ could help you or a friend. (:


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:**Tired of claiming they're not mine when, deep down, they are! Mwahahaha! I shall cuddle Sabretooth to death. And by cuddle... I mean do naughty things to? (:

**Story Notes:** This story originally ignored X2 and X3, but that's changed. Many of the events in X2 will be acknowledge and _followed_ to some extent. Also, it should be noted that X-Men Origins will be _acknowledged_ in some way, shape or form.

_**Normalcy is Overrated: **_She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**Chapter Twelve**_

"As I'm sure you're all already aware, Thanksgiving is next week."

A chorus of cheers and whoops rang out through the Blackbird even as I leaned across the aisle to give Jubilee a quick high-five. There was nothing quite like the prospect of an actual break to bring a group of individuals together in celebration. In fact, it was rare that the group of us got along, unless in the Danger Room. And, even then, it wasn't always pretty.

"I'm sure you're all wondering exactly why we rescheduled this weekend's training session and asked you to meet in the hangar. How long would you estimate we've been in the air, Iceman?" Cyclops prompted, arms crossed over his chest as he braced his legs carefully, so that the turbulence wouldn't' send him toppling over.

Curious, I glanced over my shoulder in Bobby's direction. He sat next to Rogue in the very back row of seats, his icy blue eyes widened as he stared at Cyclops in surprise. "I, uh. I guess about an hour?" he murmured as he ran his fingers through his gelled back hair.

"An hour?" Cyclops repeated, slowly turning his back and sitting down in the co-pilot's seat even as Storm began to maneuver the jet downwards. "There is a huge difference between sixty minutes in a craft that is capable of nearly breaking the sound barrier and seventy-five minutes. If I were to tell you what direction we've been traveling, and at what speed, what good would the wrong amount of time do you?"

The cabin, previously boisterous and light-hearted, grew deathly silent as we glanced at one another uneasily. John shifted beside me, casting me a smirk as he continued playing with his ever-present lighter. "Someone's got more than his fair share of a stick up his ass today," he muttered lowly, so that only I could hear.

Normally, John's comments would make me giggle, snort even. Instead, I shifted uneasily in my seat and stared down at my booted feet. When practice had been canceled, I had thought that we were getting a day off. Instead, word had been passed around to dress sensibly for a day outdoors. "Is this sort of thing normal, St. John?" I murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair out of my eyes. "Impromptu field trips in a private jet seems a bit much."

In response, he shrugged his shoulders and shifted his attention to the back of the seat in front of us. When he wasn't in the mood for conversation, John Allerdyce was as irritable as an old lady one number away from a coverall at church bingo. Instead of bothering him any further, I shifted in my seat and stared resolutely at the back of Cyclops' head.

What seemed like hours later, but was only really twenty or so minutes, we landed and both Storm and Cyclops rose from their seats and wandered toward the ramp in the back of the jet. Nervously, I tugged at my seat's restraints, unstrapping them and raising uneasily to my feet to follow Pete and the others down the ramp.

When I first exited the ramp, the first thing that struck me as strange was the lack of noise. Sure, the jet itself was humming quietly (a little too quietly for a huge piece of technology), and the others were murmuring and kicking bits of gravel and loose rock. But, overall, it was quieter than I could remember the world being in a very long time. It felt easier to breathe; the air smelled cleaner and felt cool as it rushed through me.

"Like, I'm not liking the looks of this," Kitty muttered under her breath as she phased through Jubilee in order to see around Peter's back. "Logan and Dr. Grey are here."

Uneasiness curled itself into a ball in my gut as Cyclops and Storm motioned us forward, grouping us around a large stack of boxes and crates that were covered with a tarp. Logan loitered nearby, his ever-present flannel standing out in the wooded surroundings more so than the leather uniforms that Storm and Cyclops wore, and almost nearly as much as the very businesslike pantsuit that Dr. Grey wore.

"This weekend, you will be forgoing your usual Danger Room practice in order to participate in a little exercise we've fondly nicknamed _X-Survival_," Cyclops' voice boomed, causing me to look around the densely forested area round us. "There is only so much that we can teach you in the classrooms, on the mats, and even in the Danger Room. That is why you're all here."

It seemed to be Storm's queue to take over, as she stepped forward with a warm and comforting smile upon her lips. "A great many of you have seen things in this world that are terrible. Some of you have lived on the streets, learned to survive. We are here today because the world is not always a beautiful place. There will likely always be those that seek to persecute us, to hold us down. It is not fair; in fact, it's not even remotely fair." Lithely, she moved around the large stack of crates and boxes, her arms folded delicately over her chest. "As I'm sure many of you are aware, before I came to the Xavier Institute, I lived as a petty thief on the streets of Cairo. I also lived many years as a goddess, bringing water and therefore life and prosperity to many areas."

"I didn't realize you were like a thief back then and stuff," Jubilee offered, looking slightly sheepish.

Instead of reprimanding the girl for interrupting, Storm nodded and let her eyes trail over all of us, one by one. "Charles Xavier's dream is to bring peace between mutants and non-mutants, something that may not happen in our lifetime, maybe not even in your children's lifetime. But, that does not mean that we shall simply roll over. The Institute," she paused and slowly began to pull the dark tarp backwards, "is a place that acts as a sanctuary to mutants, children in particular. We've always told you that so long as you are on the grounds, inside of the gates, you remain under our care."

Logan stepped forward slowly, his gait lazy and exaggerated. An unlit cigar clenched between his fingers and one hand shoved into his too-tight jeans pocket, he looked about as entertained as I felt. "Chuck asked me to put together a little obstacle course o' sorts that would challenge the group of you, show ya exactly how tough it can be out here in the real world. I got to planning, and that got me to thinking." Cyclops snorted loudly, awarding himself a growl from the Wolverine followed by the good old one-fingered salute. "As I was sayin'... It got me to thinking, and I realized that there just ain't no way to really show ya than to actually show ya. That's why you're all here." One hand on his hip, he nudged the crate nearest him with the tip of his aged boot. "The ten of you are going to find your way to a destination a good eighteen mile hike from here. On foot."

The whining and complaining started immediately. I stood there, stunned as Logan slipped the cigar back into his mouth and motioned for Storm to remove the tarp completely. My gaze faltered from Logan's form to the vast array of gear that was spread out before him. Curiously, I slipped forward while the others continued whining and crouched next to a pack that had my name taped to the front, opening it and peering in cautiously.

"We've discussed the matter at large, and we've already divided you into two groups." The sound of papers rustling drew my attention to where Cyclops stood, surrounded by my classmates. "We've provided supplies of every sort, as well as sustenance. You will be given compasses, flashlights, as well as a map of the surrounding area."

"This some sort've prank? Sounds like a dang ol' television show t' me," Sam Guthrie piped up, his southern drawl causing a few to groan.

Still, he did have a point. "Let me get this straight," I began, rifling through the supplies that had been packed carefully in the pack. "You're sending us on our merry way? Alone? A group of mostly minors trekking through the wilderness? Wow, that's some lazy teaching there."

Apparently, that craw just didn't sit well with Cyclops, who rounded on me quickly. "You'll be given forty-eight hours to reach us- roughly two full nights and two and a half days. But, I stress that we will be watching. The Professor and Jean will alternate, each standing guard over Cerebro. In addition, Colossus, Wolverine, and Storm will remain here. Storm will wait at the finish line, so to speak, and Wolverine and Colossus will be moving along with either group. They will act as guardians only, offering no advice or reprimand. In essence, they will be there to ensure that you remain safe."

"Trust me, kid," Logan grunted as he swiveled a cold gaze toward where Cyclops stood, surrounded by confused teenagers. "This is something you all need. Nothing like a good slap of reality in the face to get everything in focus."

"Not only are we hoping that this exercise will give you a dose of reality, but we are also hoping that it will reinforce the lessons that we have struggled to teach you," Dr. Grey added, her voice a smooth as silk. Irritated me sometimes how the woman could look so smooth and pampered despite the slightly chilly temperature and occasional gusts of wind. "We anticipate that teamwork will really come into play, as will leadership and the like. Of course, it is not mandatory."

"Count me the hell out then!" Tabitha Smith, fondly called Boom-Boom, announced as she nudged Amara out of the way with an elbow to the side. "I'd much rather spend my weekend at the mall, thank you very much."

Grinning, Cyclops tilted his head to the side ever so slightly. "However, there is one _minor_ stipulation to not attending this weekend's survival exercise. Those that choose not to attend will be required to dock a minimum of fifty hours of work for the Professor. You wouldn't _believe_ how dirty the Blackbird can get sometimes. And, if that doesn't suit your needs, a simple fifty hours with Wolverine in the Danger Room can do the trick." He paused, glancing around as if to gauge our reactions. "So, anyone for the alternative assignment?"

A number of long minutes passed in relative quiet before Tabitha released a grunt of frustration and stomped forward, her knee-high boots sinking in the damp grass. Her arms crossed over her scantily-covered chest, she looked annoyed as can be. "Fine. Whatever. Let's just get this crap over with."

Shaking his head, Cyclops glanced down at the clipboard in his hands, slightly stubbled jaw obviously fighting the urge to smirk. "The two groups are as follows," he began, causing me to release a sigh as I rocked back on my haunches. "Bobby, Kitty, Roberto, Jubilation, and Theresa will be in the first group, and the rest of you will be in the other. Understood?"

_This weekend is going to suck, _I decided as I looked around at my teammates.

* * *

**A/N:** Not only are we seeing a lot of new characters, but we're embarking on a trip through the wilderness? What on Earth has the world come to? (:


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:**Danielle as well as her Granny both are creations of my crazed mind! Wolverine and his fellow X-Men are all the property of their owners. I think it's Disney this week? Maybe Burger King? Either way, I shall continue to keep Sabes locked up in mah closet. ;3

**Story Notes:** This story originally ignored X2 and X3, but that's changed. Many of the events in X2 will be acknowledge and _followed_ to some extent. Also, it should be noted that X-Men Origins will be _acknowledged_ in some way, shape or form.

_**Normalcy is Overrated: **_She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**Chapter Thirteen**_

"This sucks."

"Jesus, Tabby, do you _ever_ shut the fuck up?" John roared, his eyes narrowed into darkened slits as he threw his hands up in the air. "You don't want to be here? Fine by me. Pack your shit and tell Wolverine so that he can get your whiny ass the hell out of my face. Okay?"

"No need to be such a dick about it," she muttered, crossing her legs and dusting off the knee of her jeans while eyeing her nails dully. "The others have already headed out. Are we ever going to leave, oh fearless leader?"

Annoyed, I rolled my eyes and sighed, standing from a crouching position and sliding my pack on carefully. "Well, we sure as hell aren't going anywhere until we get organized, Tabby, so maybe you should get changed into the gear they left behind before we even consider going anywhere." In response, she offered me a dainty middle finger before eyeing her nails again. "You're either stupid or crazy if you think you're going to make a long hike like this in those jeans, let alone those boots."

Both Sam and Rogue snorted as they rifled through their packs. "Ah ain't gonna lie, most outdoorsy thing Ah ever did was camp out back with mah daddy when Ah was little. Yah sure we needed t' change into these clothes, Dani?"

"The layers are necessary," I nodded as I slowly secured the strap across my mid-section. "The innermost layer will keep your core temperature cool and regulated, but it filters out the sweat. It might not seem necessary, but the rain gear might be needed. If it gets to raining up here," I glanced skywards, catching peeks of bright blue sky through the branches and leaves. "Well, if it gets to raining it's going to feel like it's snowing. Trust me."

The others quieted down for a moment and cast me varying looks of suspicion, even while the Wolverine, whose face was partially hidden under the brim of a worn brown Stetson hat, smirked slightly. "And how exactly would you know?" John asked, surprise evident in his tone.

"Uh, hello? Army brat." Deftly, I adjusted the straps of my gear, nodding after deciding that it was as comfortable as it was ever going to be. "My dad was a nature enthusiast. Whenever he wasn't on tour or we were on base long enough, he liked to travel. Rock climbing, river-rafting, camping, hiking..." I trailed off, brows furrowed slightly. "He taught me a lot. It's not something you take lightly, or forget."

Tabby, still looking half-resentful, glanced down at her attire as though she could see absolutely nothing wrong with it. "Fine, if it will appease the Amazon woman, I will change into the gear they've provided us with. Come on, Princess," she jerked her head at Amara, who quickly gathered up clothing and followed Tabby toward the Blackbird's ramp. Until Cyclops and Jean headed back to the Mansion, it would remain as a changing room.

As I watched John and Rogue fidget with their gear, I realized I would have to take the lead if we were going to get anywhere. While it was never said to be a competition, there was an underlying note of competitiveness between the two groups after Cyclops had assigned groups and handed out maps. Not surprisingly, Iceman had immediately assumed the lead of the other group, organizing everyone promptly and getting them on the trail, compass in his palm.

Sighing, I slid off my pack, resting it against the trunk of a tree as I clambered over three outstretched sleeping bags to stand over Rogue and John, ignoring Sam's occasional mutters from behind me. "Guys, you can't reasonably expect to carry all that crap."

Surprised, Rogue glanced up at me from under her lashes, a few beads of perspiration on her upper lip. "Ah thought we needed all this?" she waved a gloved hand at the expanse of gear that had been left for us to use.

"How in the hell would we be able to carry all of this?" I asked, hissing slightly as I crouched between her and John. Pulling out one item at a time, I emptied their packs completely. "Okay, guys, what would you consider to be the essentials for a hiking trip?"

"Beer, pretzels, and a bare-chested Cyclops," Tabby offered as she traipsed down the ramp, Amara close at her heels. Tossing her strawberry blonde hair out of her face, she looked about as ready for the hike as Jubilee had, which wasn't saying much. "Don't get me wrong, I'd take Wolverine bare-chested, but he's a bit hairier. Ever think of shaving?"

Instead of responding, he continued to lean against the trunk of a tree, nonverbally handing me the reins to the show.

"I said, what would you consider to be the essentials for a hiking trip?"

"Water," Amara murmured quietly. I knew very little of her, except that she was an honest-to-God Princess of some foreign country. Rather, she had been until her parents had been thrown out of power and into despair. "Water is very important."

"Indeed it is." Carefully, I picked up a water purifier and handed it to Rogue. "Keep this bagged up in a waterproof bag of some sort. If needed, I do know how to purify water the old-fashioned way, but it just doesn't taste the same. While we'll probably come across a few rivers, maybe some streams, it's probably best to pack enough water to sustain us for a day. Take three or four bottles a piece, as well as a purifier. Oh, a bag of batteries," I nodded as I chucked a bag toward Sam. "What else?"

"Flashlights?" John offered, hesitantly. With a faint smile, I took the flashlight from his hand and twisted open the bottom, ensuring that the batteries were fresh and that it did, indeed, take the same type of battery that we already had. "We're already dressed, so that takes care of clothes. Right? Or do we take more?"

"It's not exactly a bad thing to take an extra set of clothes, but it's not really necessary." Tabby snorted as I showed them how to fold up an extra set of clothing and place it in a waterproof bag. "The more organized, the more stuff you can cram into this thing. Trust me. Okay, do we all have our compasses and maps?"

Slowly, Sam edged forward on his knees and held out his compass, looking at it strangely. "Y'know, I reckon I ain't even seen one of these since my days in the Scouts. Y'know how to read one of these things, right?"

With a roll of my eyes, I nodded and motioned for him to pack up his map and compass. "Make sure your pack your bug spray. Don't use a lot. Wait. Amara, let me see yours." Jerkily, she handed me her can of bug spray and I read over the label quickly, grunting as I tossed it over my shoulder. "Who in the hell did they send to get this stuff ready? That's a terrible brand." Digging around in a container of supplies, I pulled out a handful of a decent brand and tossed a can to everyone. "Sunscreen isn't a bad idea, but we'll be okay without it. We may run into some snow up there though, so make sure you grab some sunglasses."

"Finally!" Tabby exclaimed as she dropped down onto an overturned crate, legs sprawled out in front of her. "A little bit of the familiar to go with the crap that I couldn't care less about. Oh, don't worry about me." As if annoyed, she waved a hand in the air, motioning for us to continue on without her. "Finish readying your packs. Morons."

I had to grit my teeth to keep from saying something that might start an all-out teen mutant war. "We'll take two first aid kits total. Rogue, how about you carry one and I'll carry the other?" I suggested, opening the kit and adding a few extra items before handing one to her and urging her to pack it carefully. "Usually it's best to take some fire starter, but seeing as how we have St. John," I eyed him callously as I bagged up several lighters and matches in different bags, handing one to him, one to Rogue, and one to Amara. "Well, and Amara," I frowned.

"Cyclops did say that we shouldn't use our mutations unless we really have to," she murmured stoically. "He said that it's best to be able to rely on ourselves in case we are placed in a situation where we cannot rely on our gifts."

Tutting, I rose slowly to my feet and placed my hands on my hips. "Fine. Point. Set. Match." Tossing a bag containing several packs of food to each of them, I eyed Wolverine speculatively. "They've provided dry food, and MREs. Grab an extra bottle or two of water each. Since I'm stronger than the lot of you, I'll carry a couple gallons." Grunting, I crouched yet again and attempted to make more room in my pack for the six or seven bottles of water that would only add more weight to the others' packs. "Normally I carry a hatchet and a pocket knife or two, but seeing as how they didn't leave us with any such thing," I rolled my eyes.

"Kid," the gruff sound drew my attention to where Wolverine stood. "Take it," he growled as he tossed something through the air. Lazily, I reached up and caught the object, smiling as I realized that it was a Swiss Army knife.

"Oh, for love of God," John muttered as he struggled to roll up his sleeping bag. "How in the hell is this thing supposed to fit in _that_?" Cursing, he looked ready to rip the poor object into shreds before I knelt next to him and showed him how to roll it up tightly. "You're serious?" he asked as I strapped it to his pack deftly, covering it so that it wouldn't get wet.

Ten minutes later everyone, even Tabby, was packed and struggling into their gear. Rogue offered a few suggestions for Cyclops' idea of a survival exercise, even while Sam chuckled and Amara promised to sue someone. Despite the fact that we left the base camp thirty minutes after the first group, we were, in my opinion, better prepared.

Sighing, I looked down over my sunglasses at my map, eyeing my compass lazily. Having hooked it to a velcro strap, I hooked it around a belt loop and waited until it settled against my hip before I folded up the map and pointed toward the west. "Let's head out. We'll stop for the night in a few hours, but let's cover as much ground as we can now while we still have a little daylight."

I led the way, Rogue to my right and Sam directly behind me. Tabby trailed a bit behind him, taking her sweet time even as Amara took short-legged steps to keep up behind her. John, constantly mumbling and cursing, brought up the rear with the Wolverine trailing even further behind him. As I tripped over the first root and nearly sprained my ankle, I sent up a silent thanks to Xavier for okaying a trip that would probably get one of us killed.

* * *

**A/N:** Tabby's personality is a bit more preppy than it was in Evo, but that's where I'm getting it from. Here's hoping their trek doesn't result in death. (:


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:**All of the X-Men were stolen from my notes! Except, not really! Because, I'm pretty sure they were around before I was born. Touche, Stan Lee. Touche.

**Story Notes:** This story originally ignored X2 and X3, but that's changed. Many of the events in X2 will be acknowledge and _followed_ to some extent. Also, it should be noted that X-Men Origins will be _acknowledged_ in some way, shape or form.

_**Normalcy is Overrated: **_She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**Chapter Fourteen**_

"This looks like a good place to stop for the night, guys," I decided as I spun in a quick circle, eying the small clearing thoughtfully. "If we set up our sleeping bags near that outcropping of rocks," I pointed to the side of the mountain, "then we'll probably block out a lot of the wind. It'll help keep us warm tonight."

As we removed our gear, it was Rogue that started the complaining.

"Mah Gawd, carryin' this crap is more than Ah agreed to!" Grunting, her pack dropped to the hard ground with a dull thud. Immediately she sank down onto a large, smooth boulder, stretching out her legs and tossing her slightly damp hair out of her face. "This shit's gotta be torture or somethin'."

Chuckling, Sam carefully slid off his gear and propped his pack against a tree, stretching his arms over his head thoughtfully. The boy was certainly southern born and southern bred, and he'd offered to carry some of Tabby's stuff at least a dozen times during the fast-paced three hour trek. She'd nearly given in until I'd stepped between them and gave her some advice before trudging on ahead.

"Dani's working us like dogs, Wolverine," the blonde complained as she dropped down onto the boulder next to Rogue awkwardly, her gear still strapped on. It weighed half as much as she did, and she hadn't packed it correctly if her tottering was any giveaway. "Can't you, I don't know, like tell her to shut the hell up or something?"

The man in question lifted a brow at her from under his Stetson, but said nothing as he lowered his own pack to the ground near two rather thick trees. Crouching, with his back to us, he looked bored and about as observant as Tabby. But, I knew that those enhanced senses of his were keeping him in the loop, and that he heard the string of curses that the blonde-headed girl sent his way under her breath.

Sighing, I slid off my gear slowly, propping my pack near Sam's before placing my hands on my hips. "Listen, if you guys don't want me to lead the way, so freaking be it. As far as I'm concerned, I'm doing you all a favor. Do you think Wolverine's going to help?" I demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at the man in question. He, of course, didn't even offer us a view of his face as he continued doing whatever it was that he was doing. "But, I'm not going to sit around and listen to you bitch and complain when I've done nothing but offer help. Look a gift horse in the mouth, why don't you."

"Dani's right," John offered after a long moment of silence. Unlike the others, he hadn't said much during the hike, except for the few choice words that he'd sent in Tabby's direction whenever she'd started complaining. Sparing me a quick nod, he let me help him take his pack off and sit it next to mine and Sam's before he lifted his arms over his head in a quick stretch. "What now?"

Chewing on my lower lip thoughtfully, I glanced around the clearing. It was surrounded on three sides by trees, though only sparsely. The fourth side was the mountainside, an outcropping of rocks that looked as though climbing them higher than twenty or so feet would be impossible without the right sort of gear. The ground itself was a mixture of rocks and grass, neither of which appeared to be too awful damp. Overall, it wasn't the greatest place to set up camp, but it would do.

"We'll need to go ahead and set up a fire pit," I decided as I strolled over to the outcropping of rock, slapping at it thoughtfully with the palm of my hand. After a close investigation, I decided that I couldn't see any critters crawling around it, as it offered virtually no gaps or little holes that any animal that we'd have to worry about could possibly fit into. "It's probably best if we sleep against this rock wall. We'll put the fire right over there," I pointed toward the boulder that Rogue and Sam sat upon. "Sam, why don't you pull up a good circle of grass near that boulder, not too close, now. And Rogue, John? How about you two get us some firewood. Preferably downed wood, dry as you can find. Tabby, Amara, you two get our fire pit started. We're going to need to outline it in stones. Keep them about this size," I muttered, holding out my hands in example.

Of course, this caused Tabby to groan and lift her fingers, rolling them together to produce a brightly shining sphere of energy. I let out a gasp as she slung it toward me, only barely managing to duck before it hit the ground and exploded, leaving a rather large hole behind. "Whoops," she managed between fits of laughter. "I'm so sorry, Danielle, where are my manners? And what, _pray tell_, are you gonna be doing while we're setting up camp?"

Gritting my teeth together to refrain from doing something that I might later regret, I jerked my thumb toward Wolverine. "Map says there's a river that direction. I figure there's a good chance that I'll come across a stream. So, unless you wanna lug water around..." I trailed off, crouching near my pack to find the collapsible water jug that I'd packed.

"What do we need water for? Did we not pack enough?" Amara piped up quietly, already eyeing a large pile of stones warily.

Without sparing her another glance, I did my best to unfold the collapsible five gallon water jug, wrapping my fingers firmly around the red handle. "We want to conserve as much water as possible in case something happens. If I can find any water tonight, we can purify it for the food, and maybe even refill our empty water bottles. If you leave camp, don't go more than five minutes in any direction. I'm not gonna come looking for you," I muttered, ignoring their complaints as I slipped away from the camp and ducked under a branch.

It took several minutes before the sounds coming from the camp disappeared completely. A sigh of relief heaved through my form as I picked my way over rocks and fallen branches in order to head toward what I hoped would be a water source of some sort. After a few minutes, I unzipped my slicker, thankful for the slightly crisp breeze that played with strands of my hair. It was relaxing, very down to earth.

"They're whiny," a familiar voice called out behind me, startling me to the point that I nearly tripped and fell over my own feet.

"Jesus, Logan," I hissed, shrugging his proffered helpful hand away as I tried to slow my racing heart. Right hand clamped around the handle of the water container, I swung at him half-heartedly with my left. "Did you really have to sneak up on me like that? You could've at least announced that you were following me. What if I'd been farting or something?"

Brow uplifted, he slid a lit cigar between his lips and trekked along beside me in silence for several minutes. "Doin' a good job leading that rag tag group, Dani. Cyke sounded surprised when I passed the word along t' Jean and she passed it on t' him. Army brat?" he asked quietly as we moved along in silence, save for the sound of our booted feet moving across the uneven ground.

"Dad was in the Army," I offered, eyes trailing toward a large squirrel as it raced up the trunk of a large tree. "He was an Officer, one of the best. My dad was really old school, Logan." Eyes narrowed in thought, I spared the quiet, generally solitary man a quick glance. "I think you would have liked him."

"Must've been hard, not havin' him around and all."

Shrugging, I hopped over a boulder, boots skidding slightly on some gravel as I managed to right myself. "What time we did spend together was nice. He was a good man, and I miss him." It was hard to admit sometimes, especially since he'd never been the overly affectionate type. Hugs were reserved for hellos and goodbyes, and the three-word phrase that most kids craved wasn't uttered every night. But he knew as well as I knew that I loved and respected him. "We were always doing stuff when I was little. Whenever he was around, we were camping or hiking or _something_, you know? I think I miss that the most. My Grandma... Well, she just can't get around as well as she used to. Ended up selling the RV she and my grandpa had. I miss those road trips sometimes."

He was quiet for a moment or two, his gaze hidden under the rim of the worn hat upon his head. As the sound of running water grew louder, he released a faint grunt. "I told 'em not to bring Smith along. That girl complains more than I dunno what. Gettin' tired o' her shit, myself."

"Tabby's not so bad," I managed, shrugging a shoulder faintly as I stumbled over slick rocks. "She has daddy issues. Trust me." He seemed doubtful, but said nothing as I slid down a few rocks to a decent-sized stream that appeared clear and fresh. "We could follow this a ways, see if we can get any fish?"

"Gotta pole on ya, kid?" he inquired, shaking his head as I crouched next to the stream.

Doing my best to keep my boots out of the water, I crouched and used the stream's current in order to fill the five gallon jug as full as I could manage despite the shallow water. After two minutes or so, the task was complete and I closed the nozzle tightly and eyed the slightly murky water warily. "You'd tell me if you smelled any harsh chemicals or something, wouldn't you? I mean, getting us all sick isn't something that would be nice."

He sniffed audibly and shook his head quickly. "Nah, ain't nothin' that purifier can't clean on out. Come on," he jerked his head in the direction downstream. "Let's see if'n we can catch some dinner. Don't feel like eating that dried food bullshit Cyke packed up."

I agreed silently as I followed along behind him, grunting slightly under the weight of the five gallon container of water. Even though Professor Xavier claimed that I had the potential to be one of the strongest people on earth, I still hadn't managed to get my mutation under control. He'd finally ruled out the possibility of seismic energy, deciding that my emotions, and thus adrenaline, were tied in with super strength that never seemed to be within my grasp when I really needed it to be.

"Can't you just, I don't know, claw one up?" I suggested fifteen minutes later as I sat next to the stream, elbows resting on my knees as I watched him watch the fish moving up and down the stream.

Sparing me a single scathing glance over his shoulder, he rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt and crouched over the water, body going perfectly still as he lowered his hands toward the water. Bored, and all around annoyed, I yawned and closed my eyes, intending to grab a quick cat nap if at all possible.

"Gotcha!" he grunted as the sound of splashing water pulled me out of my reverie. Blinking rapidly, I stared at him in shock as he turned on his heel, fish of some sort cupped in his hands. "'Bout eleven inches. Good size, kid. Rig us up something to carry 'em back on, yeah?"

Still confused, I nodded as I stood up abruptly, moving into the underbrush to search for some means of carrying the fish. After several minutes, I returned to the stream and crouched next to him, pulling out the knife he had given me in order to strip the bark off of the two-inch thick branch that I'd found, sharpening one end to a sharp point that was probably capable of piercing human flesh.

He didn't make a sound as he continued to catch fish in such a manner, bringing his total to four over the next twenty minutes. With the sharp end of the branch, I pierced the lip of each fish, running it straight through their head. When I was finally done stringing them up, I washed my hands off in the stream, grimacing slightly at the sight of the Wolverine swinging the branch around lazily.

The trip back to the campsite was quiet, broken only by the sound of our footfalls. By the time I could hear them, my arms were aching from carrying the container of water, and I was half-tempted to chuck it at the man next to me. Instead, I struggled up a slight incline in order to stagger into the campsite.

"About time you're back!" I was assaulted immediately by Tabby, only to stare in confusion at the sight of a slightly charred sleeping bag, Sam perched some fifteen feet up on the mountainside, and Rogue swinging a cooking pot around like a weapon. "So, I'm guessing that ordering pizza just ain't gonna cut it, eh?"

Dropping the container of water, I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hands, willing the image away. When I opened my eyes again, everyone was staring at me and John was wagging his brows comically. With a sigh, I dropped into a crouch near the fire pit and started rearranging the firewood.

"Everyone better shut the hell up before Logan and I gut up the fish in front of you." Surprisingly, the threat seemed to work.

* * *

**A/N:** Part of me really wanted Pyro to set all the fish on fire as they gutted them, like a little girlie man. But, alas. (:


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** Sabretooth belongs in my closet, the Wolverine belongs next to my bed with a serving platter of Dew and pretzels (of course- wearing nothing but some tight little shorts), Pyro belongs shirt less at the little grill nearby, and Colossus is just standing around looking dead sexy. Of course, that's only in my COMPLETELY screwed up mine. Sadness. ):

**Story Notes:** This story originally ignored X2 and X3, but that's changed. Many of the events in X2 will be acknowledge and _followed_ to some extent. Also, it should be noted that X-Men Origins will be _acknowledged_ in some way, shape or form.

_**Normalcy is Overrated: **_She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**Chapter Fifteen**_

"Get your head off of my sleeping bag!"

"Well, get yer leg off o' me, ya fat cow!"

"Cow? I'll give you cow, you redneck son of a bitch!"

A howl echoed in the campsite and I did my best to cover my face with my sleeping bag. I could feel them moving next to me, rolling around and slapping at one another like children. Groaning, I rolled over onto my side, my pack braced against my back as I snuggled deeper into the warm lining of the sleeping bag.

_This is nuts_, I decided as I grimaced, hoping that whatever hit the ground a few inches away from me wasn't going to explode. After a few seconds, I peeked out slightly, eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness that was only broken by the moon and the light that the fire provided. A sigh escaped my lips as I realized that someone had thrown what appeared to be a shoe, narrowly missing my head.

"Listen, could you two lovebirds take your little flirting match and go the hell away so that we can get some freaking sleep?" John demanded, the fire growing in size before returning to normal with his outburst. "We walked ten miles today; I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted."

"We only walked six, maybe seven," I corrected him quietly. "You guys move too slow to cover that amount in a few hours." Which was true. Between Tabby's complaining and constant hijinks, we'd stopped every ten or so minutes to argue. "The terrain we're hitting tomorrow is going to be steep, somewhat dangerous. So, I suggest you shut up and go to sleep, because I'll leave you behind in the morning."

It was quiet for a long moment as the bundle of a person next to me shifted slightly closer. A head poked out of the top of the sleeping bag suddenly, studying me with darkened eyes. "You wouldn't really leave us, would yah?" Rogue murmured, snuggling into her sleeping bag.

Sighing, I rolled over onto my stomach, arms folded under my head like a makeshift pillow. "I just don't get why there's so much complaining." Voice slightly muffled, I turned my head slightly, resting my cheek upon my arm. "Yeah, I know I'd rather be back at home, I mean, back at the Mansion." Frowning, I pondered my slip-up for a moment, wondering when the Mansion had suddenly become home. Shaking my head, I rubbed my cheek against my arm and curled my legs up slightly. "It's like a camping trip. Without adults. Everyone's been cursing up a storm, even _you_, and Logan hasn't said a damned thing."

"He's not supposed t' interfere," she reminded me, giggling slightly as she shifted around in her sleeping bag. I was on the farthest side away from the wall, and thus the closest to the fire. Rogue was next to me, with John not too far from her, Amara and Tabby near him, and Sam was bunkered near the rock face. "Wish we'd've thought t' have some of them hammocks, eh?"

I agreed internally even as I shrugged in indifference. We'd done our best to turn the little area into a comfortable sleeping place, going as far as getting dry, clean grass to blanket the ground so that the little rocks and the like wouldn't be so sharp against the sleeping bags. "At least he's off of the ground. I think we could tag-team him and knock him out of it?" It seemed a bit unfair that our companion, the fearless Wolverine, was snoring softly in a hammock on the other side of the campsite.

Her giggle echoed softly in the night air as she heaved a gentle sigh. "Y'know, Ah hate to admit it, but this is kinda nice."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Ah mean," she released a huff of air, presumably to blow her hair out of her face. "It's quiet out here. Ain't no little kids running 'round, yellin' and screaming. Ain't no worryin' 'bout a test, class, or even the stupid drama that always seems to be 'round teenagers. It's just us an' nature. Ah kinda like it."

Grinning, I curled my toes and snuggled deeper into my sleeping bag, silently wishing I had a better pillow. It was the one luxury that my dad had always allowed me on any camping trip, at least for the first night. Somehow, it generally wound up soaked through, so we'd have to bag it up for the rest of the trip. "I think you mean it's nice being away from Bobby," I suggested, closing my eyes and letting the sound of nature drown out the sound of Tabby grumbling vehemently at Sam.

"Don't say crap like that," she hissed softly, rolling onto her side so that she was facing me. "Yah know it ain't like that."

"Ain't like what?" I countered, rolling back onto my side, one arm under my head so that I could at least see the outline of her. "Sometimes I think you're with him because you think he's the only one _willing_ to be with you, Rogue. That's called settling where I'm from."

"He's a nice guy."

"I know he's a _nice_ guy," I sighed. We'd had the same basic conversation at least ten times over the last several weeks, and yet nothing seemed to be getting through to her. "But, is that all there is to him? You don't stay with a guy because he's nice to you. You stay with him because you _care._" I paused for a moment, ensuring that the chatter on the other side of her was still going on before pushing forward. "Do you love him?"

She sucked in a sharp breath at the question, expelling it harshly, the hot air tickling my nose. "Ah- Ah dunno, Dani. Ah mean, he's a nice guy, a real nice guy. Was really th' first person other than Logan that didn't seem so scared o' meh."

"Yet he's scared to hold your hand unless you wear gloves."

"That's not fair, and yah know it," she muttered, grinding her teeth together. "Yah know damned well exactly what Ah can do if'n Ah touch someone. It's not fair to blame him fah not wantin' tah get killed."

"Killed?" I repeated softly, narrowing my eyes in her direction. "You're learning control, are you not? If he doesn't trust you to hold his hand, how in the hell are you supposed to trust him with your heart?" Scooting slightly closer to her, I lowered my voice. "If there's one thing in this life that's precious, it's time. Don't settle for a _nice_ guy because he says the right things, because he carries your books, because he's willing to _shield_ you from the not-so-nice things in life. I don't know what it's like to be in love, so maybe I'm reading all of the signs wrong. If I am, feel free to ignore me; everybody does anyway. But," I licked my lips and closed my eyes, blocking out the sound of Amara threatening to melt Tabby's favorite pair of boots. "But, if I'm right, don't just sit around waiting for things to change. Make them change."

"Oh, you can try it, Princess," Tabby shouted loudly, causing even Logan to let out a grunt of annoyance. "So help me, God, if you people don't shut the hell up I'm going to-"

"Oh, shut up, Tabitha!" Rogue roared up suddenly, her hair falling around her shoulders as she sat up straight. Her voice came out more like a roar, something that should have come out of the Wolverine, not her. "Ah'm so sick and tired o' hearing your shit. If this is all so terrible, why don't'cha just say so! Tell Wolverine, he'll get'cha on outta here, and we can enjoy ourselves in peace. What? No response? Mah Gawd, do yah always gotta have all eyes on yah? You're a spoiled little brat, actin' like we gotta take care o' ya, and leave yah alone at the same danged time. Ah'm tired of it, and Ah'm just plain tired."

It was completely silent for a long moment, save for the sound of someone gulping rather loudly. Leery about possibly having to diffuse the situation, I rubbed the pads of my fingers together thoughtfully.

"Ah know that yah had it rough as a kid. Hell, we all did! But, that ain't no danged reason t' be the way that yah are. Maybe yah think people like yah, that your slutty stuck-up bitch routine's gonna get'cha friends. Well it ain't!" Gone was the anger in Rogue's voice; it was replaced by a sadness that portrayed exactly how sorry for Tabitha she felt. "We just wanna be your friends; is that really so hard t' comprehend? Yeah, we're done thrown together outta circumstance, us being mutants and all, but it ain't like Ah'm gonna walk around givin' out friendship bracelets. Yah don't like us? Fine. But Ah'm tired of pussy-footin' around cause you might blow up. So what! What if Ah blow up? That's what Ah thought. Now, shut up and get some shut eye 'fore Ah come over with mah gloves off."

The sound of the woodland around us was the only sound that greeted my ears for a number of long moments. A sigh of relief quaked through my body as I tried to hold back the laughter. There was no doubt in my mind whatsoever that my best friend had just thrown everyone off track; it was rare that her calm Southern facade fell and revealed the feisty hellcat that lay beneath. In fact, most people thought she was a female Iceman, mainly because she was often quiet and rather withdrawn with crowds. Which was sort of understandable, seeing as how most people were scared senseless of her skin.

"Well, now that the Jerry Springer show's over, how 'bout you all shut up and get some shut eye?" the Wolverine suggested, cursing under his breath. "Gotta long day ahead."

No more words were spoken as we finally settled down for the night. Beside me, Rogue ducked back into her sleeping back, a small gap for fresh air being the only thing open to the night. Sam whispered good night, and John grunted a response, but Amara and Tabby didn't say anything as the sounds of nature filled the little clearing that was our camp.

Exhausted both mentally and physically, I closed my eyes and pictured the last camping trip I'd ever taken with my dad. A smile curled my lips as I covered up my head with the sleeping bag, ushering myself into dream land gently.

* * *

**A/N:** Some people say it's the Logan in her head that gave Rogue a brass pair- Maybe. Maybe not? (:


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer:**Professor Xavier is mine. Every Wednesday we wax his head. Okay, not really, but a girl can dream! X-Men and such belong to Stan Lee, etc. (:

**Story Notes:** This story originally ignored X2 and X3, but that's changed. Many of the events in X2 will be acknowledge and _followed_ to some extent. Also, it should be noted that X-Men Origins will be _acknowledged_ in some way, shape or form.

_**Normalcy is Overrated: **_She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**Chapter Sixteen**_

"We _have_ to cross here," I reiterated, rolling my eyes as Sam kicked a few loose stones over the edge of the ravine. "Either we chance this rope bridge, or we head about an hour that way." I pointed to the south-west, rolling my eyes slightly. "And then we go straight up the mountain."

"But this thing just ain't safe looking!" Sam sighed, arms folded over his chest. "Looks like Amara'd fall right through, and she's damn sure the lightest."

Eyeing the rope bridge thoughtfully, I glanced over at my companions and then at the fifteen foot gap that separated the two cliff sides. Below, lay a ravine filled with underbrush and trees that was at least a seventy-foot drop. "Look, I'll go across first if it makes you feel any better. This is the route that's outlined on the map. They wouldn't send us the wrong direction, right?"

Since no one wanted to reply, I took a deep breath and slid my pack off. The bridge looked sturdy enough to handle us one at a time, but I certainly didn't want to risk the heavy weight of my pack as well. "I'll go across first," Logan offered suddenly, shoving forward in order to stand in front of the bridge, one brow lifted as if in challenge. "Hold this," he grunted, shoving his pack into my hands.

I eyed him over the leather pack, momentarily thankful that he had a much smaller pack, one that didn't weigh nearly half as much as mine. Holding my breath, I watched as he took the first hesitant step forward, the bridge shaking to and fro violently under his weight. Gripping the rope railings tightly, he scooted forward another foot, another three foot, and suddenly he was nearly halfway across. "Ain't so bad," he announced, bouncing up and down slightly and causing Rogue to release a high-pitched squeal. "It'll hold, 'long as yer nice and steady. Come on Farm Boy- you're next!" he called over his shoulder as he made it across.

Sam Guthrie eyed the ravine and rope bridge warily as he slid his pack off, letting it hit the ground noisily. Cracking his knuckles, he looked ahead at Logan and then over at me. "Reckon it just ain't fair if'n I fly on over?" A half-smile curled the left side of his mouth as he shook his head, obviously disappointed when I snorted. With a lack of grace, he stomped forward and started across the bridge in steady, long strides. A mere handful of seconds later, he was already across.

"The hell's that buzzing noise?" Logan grunted, looking around and glaring across the bridge at us. "What the fu-?" Surprise crossed his features as he reached into his too-tight jeans pockets and pulled out a slim silver object. With brows furrowed, he slid the object open and turned on his heel, putting his back to us. "Hello?"

We were quiet for a long moment as we stood across the ravine from him, alternating between watching his back and glaring at Sam as he sat down on a boulder and stretched out lazily, legs crossed at the ankle. "Amara, you should probably go next," I suggested, helping her out of her pack. Her eyes were dark and she looked frightened, but started across slowly. "And please, don't heat up," I whispered hoarsely, grimacing when she laughed nervously and a tendril of flame licked at her scalp.

"Sorry," she managed, scurrying across faster than both Sam and Logan. "It is not so bad," she announced the moment she was standing on solid ground across the bridge. With a faint smile on her face, she dropped down next to Sam, crossing her legs properly and letting the breeze play with her hair.

Tabby, breaking the silence that she'd carried since waking that morning, cleared her throat and sighed. "I'll go next," she offered, carrying her pack as she traipsed across slowly. As soon as she was on the opposite side, she sat down against a tree, her pack still strapped to her back, and her eyes downcast.

Slowly, Rogue lowered her pack to the ground, preparing to cross the rope bridge. "Well, Ah reckon that means Ah'm next," she whispered, eyes meeting mine before she turned her back to me.

"'Ro!" Logan shouted suddenly, causing Rogue to nearly topple forward if not for John grabbing her by the shoulder and pulling her back away from the rope bridge. Swinging around wildly, Logan crushed the small metal object in his hand and released a growl. "Hurry your asses up," he ordered, teeth bared. "We need t' get to a clearin' about ten minutes from here. Exercise is cancelled."

Everyone bellowed in surprise as Rogue hesitantly began to cross the rope bridge, leaving me and St. John with a pile of packs. Confused and alarmed, I spared John a glance, noting that he looked more annoyed than alarmed as he watched Rogue's backside.

The wind began to blow, tossing bits of leaves into the air, and causing me to shiver despite the fact that I felt very warm inside of my gear. As Rogue stepped foot on the opposite side, several things happened at once.

I watched, as though in a daze, as the Wolverine released a howl and leaped toward the tree line. In the same instant, a blurred figure leapt toward him, one that appeared to be dressed in dark brown clothing. Sam and Amara were on their feet instantly; Sam leaping toward the two figures while Amara instantly heated up, her entire figure going a dark orange color as her body became engulfed in flame. Rogue stood in shock, her back to us as Wolverine and the figure tumbled, snarling as the Wolverine was thrown into a tree.

"It's Sabretooth!" Rogue howled, diving to the side as the behemoth of a man stood up, his eyes gleaming with malice.

"Kitty-kitty wanna play?" Tabby mewled as she idly tossed a ball of plasma near Sabretooth's feet, smiling as he glanced down at the time bomb. It exploded, sending him toppling sideways as she tossed another, and then another. Surprisingly, he kicked at the time bombs, sending them sailing back toward Tabby. A warning died on my lips as they struck the ground near her, sending her careening crown-first into the tree behind her. With one last grunt, she went silent.

A gasp left my lips as Amara lifted her hand and threw a large globe of fire at the man, one he easily ducked. Before he could take another step, however, a black blur had slammed into him, knocking him clear off his feat. Sam Guthrie, wisely nicknamed the human Cannonball, stood up shakily before taking a step back from the downed mutant. Amara and Rogue were at his side instantly.

"Get away!" Logan roared as he leapt out of the tree line and dove for the already-moving man again, only to be too late.

With catlike reflexes, Sabretooth was on his feet, taloned fingers gripping Rogue's throat even as he kicked Sam full-on in the chest. The southern boy sailed through the air like a mannequin, landing in a heap near a boulder, unmoving. I released a breathless sigh as John and I hurried over the rope bridge, clinging to the railings and one another as we struggled to get into the action. Amara was already heated up, staring at the three figures indecisively. With Sabretooth using Rogue as a human shield, there just weren't many options.

"Don't even think about it, Johnny," I hissed as he pulled out his lighter. Gruffly, I reached over and clamped my fingers over his forearm, brown eyes meeting his momentarily. Fear and anger, and even hatred lay in the depths of his eyes before he nodded his head shakily. "Be careful, Amara," I warned her, gaze on the tall man.

In the next moment, he'd shoved Rogue away from him and leapt toward Logan, meeting the Wolverine midair with an audible crash. They were a tangle of limbs and claws and blood as they went at one another violently, rolling on the hard ground as blood gushed from their wounds.

Grunting, I ran forward and shoved Rogue toward John, eyeing Amara apprehensively. A plan formulating in my mind, I grabbed her attention. "If I can get them separated, can you give him all you've got?" I demanded, chest heaving with adrenaline.

Without waiting for an answer, I charged forward, ponytail swinging as I waited for an opening. The moment that Sabretooth rolled away from Logan to regain his footing, I swung a fist at his jaw. Surprise registered in his eyes as he ducked, taloned fingers glistening with blood as he swung at my chest. Relying on the training that I'd done with his former opponent, I leapt backwards and caught his forearm with mine, grunting as I tried forcing his arm back. Kicking out, I caught his knee, causing him to stagger slightly as his hot breath blasted against my face in a growl.

"Gonna make ya scream!" he snarled as he snaked his other hand forward quickly, those taloned fingers digging into the flesh at my throat as he lifted me off of the ground.

My first instinct was to panic, and I swung my legs wildly as I dug at his fingers helplessly. Struggling to breathe, I clawed at his fingers, eyes fluttering and heart pounding wildly in my ears. As soon as I thought I was going to pass out, he suddenly dropped me to the ground as he was blasted with a wave of intense heat that left most of my outer gear practically melted to me. Air rushed into my lungs as I kneeled on the ground, ignorant of the blood that trickled from the puncture wounds he'd made on my throat.

"Amara! No!" someone shouted, drawing my shaky gaze upwards. The Princess released a hiss of breath as the behemoth of a man backhanded her, following the attack up with a slash of claws across her chest. In an instant, she was back to her not fiery self, unconscious on the ground not even five feet away from Sam. "You fucking prick!" John yelled, hands moving forward as a wall of intense flame rushed forward from him and into Sabretooth.

But it wasn't enough, it wasn't nearly enough.

The man was back on his feet and rushing toward John an instant later, only to be met by Wolverine's claws. They struggled for power again, but it ended quickly when Sabretooth got the upper hand and sliced open Wolverine's throat. With a bodily yowl, he tossed the unmoving body of the man known as Logan over the ravine.

Shock caused me to kneel there in confusion for a long moment, ears ringing as Rogue screamed and John renewed his efforts to stop the charging man. His long tawny hair burned off of him as he ran against the flame, the smell of his burning flesh and leather causing the air to smell like burning rubber. My stomach turned as I struggled to my feet, legs wobbly as I staggered toward John, watching as Rogue rushed the man from behind, gloves gone.

She was on his back in an instant, the flame gone as her fingers dug into his face. She started screaming as he began swinging around wildly, like a Bronco trying to buck its rider. John stood there stunned, eyes wide as Rogue tried to tame the wild man, screaming her head off as his movements grew steadily more sluggish. He managed to carry her across the rope bridge, his taloned fingers slicing it nearly to pieces, before she slid off of him and he careened over the side of the cliff face, falling and falling.

I stared, shaken and confused, as Rogue glanced over the tattered remains of the rope bridge. With a strength she shouldn't have possessed, she picked up several of the packs, namely hers and Logan's, and ran across. The weight, when coupled with the abuse it had taken from the Sabretooth, proved to be too much when it suddenly gave way not a moment after she'd stepped foot on our side, sobbing as she dropped the packs and walked straight into John's awaiting arms.

Body quivering from the rush of adrenaline, I staggered forward, resting a hand on her shoulder as her pitch black eyes locked onto mine. Filled with tears, they weren't as frightening as they were on the man that was more animal than human. "He's eatin' at meh. Mah Gawd, it hurts, Dan. It hurts!"

"It's going to be okay now," I tried to calm her down, motioning for John to lower her to the ground. He shrank to the ground shakily, draping her across his lap like a child as she clung to him greedily, sobbing and shaking as he brushed a calming and comforting hand across her back. I glanced down where Amara and Sam laid, both clearly unconscious though breathing, if their rising and falling chests were any indication, and frowned. Tabby groaned, drawing my gaze to where she sat, hands pressed over her eyes as she rocked side to side."It's all going to be okay."

* * *

**A/N:** As you can see, my original plan for this story took a _completely_ different direction here. I am aware of the fact that I'm totally screwing with X2 canon, but I decided that I can do that! Cause it's just fanfic, so who cares? (:


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer:** All of them are mine! They're all my little puppets and all I do all day, every day, is manipulate them! Except . . . Not Really! (:

**Story Notes:** This story acknowledges some aspects of X2 as well as some of the foundation of X-Men: Origins. Yes, I've messed with canon, who cares!

_**Normalcy is Overrated: **_She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**Chapter Seventeen**_

"They're both unconscious, but breathing. Their heart rates seem to be steady," I managed as I hurried along side Storm, the others trailing behind me. "Tabby's sitting up, but complaining of a major headache. It's probably a concussion, but she's steadier on her feet. Sabretooth came out of nowhere. I– I don't think we reacted quickly enough."

She shrugged off the explanation airily as we hurried through the thickly wooded area. I'd gone ahead, hesitantly leaving Rogue and John and even Tabby alone to deal with Amara and Sam in order to meet in the clearing that, I'd suspected, Wolverine had been talking about. After what felt like an eternity of waiting, the Blackbird had come into view, settling down in the field of grass and rocks before they'd disembarked, some looking a little worse for the wear.

"They're just up here," I explained almost breathlessly, shrugging away from Jubilee's hand as she tried to reach for my shoulder. We exploded onto the scene noisily, questions flying every which direction as Storm crouched between Sam and Amara, the Blackbird's field medical kit spread out in front of her. "How are you doing, Tabby?"

Pale and shaken, she slowly nodded her head. With her arms folded over her chest and the back of her hair coated in drying blood, she looked twelve instead of seventeen. "I think I heard Logan moaning down there. I'm a little dizzy, so I can't-" she began, frowning as she licked her lips.

Nodding, I patted her on the shoulder, leaving her in the care of Roberto da Costa, who looked as though he was ready to topple over himself. A normally loud and boisterous redhead, Terry Cassidy spared me a nod as she helped Storm check on Amara and Sam. Kitty and Bobby were still in the Blackbird, awaiting our return while checking in at the Mansion, and Jesse and Jubilee looked beside themselves.

"Bedlam, I need you to make sure that they remain unconscious," Storm announced suddenly, causing Jesse to nervously crouch near her, sweaty palms outstretched. With more grace than I ever could have managed, she clasped a bare hand on his forearm gently. "Thank you."

Rogue stood near where the rope bridge had been, gloved hands folded over her chest and eyes downcast, John at her side. He glanced over his shoulder as I approached, motioning to the rope that Peter was already rigging up. "Think it'll hold Logan?" he inquired, ignoring Peter's dismissive grunt.

"This rope is made of material that even I cannot snap," he explained, rigging up a pulley system that would allow us to pull Logan up efficiently. "I will remain here, ensuring that it is a steady descent and ascent. But, we must hurry."

"What happened?" Rogue inquired, her voice a low growl that caused the broad-chested Russian to spare her a look of surprise.

A sigh filled the air behind us, causing me to glance over my shoulder at where Storm still crouched, tending our unconscious teammates. "The Professor and Cyclops were visiting Magneto." A gasp of surprise echoed through the group of mutants as I stared at her, both confused and suspicious. "The distress signal that Josh sent out was... Distorted. The Professor and Cyclops are missing, and the Mansion's security was breached." As if sensing that I was staring at her, she met my gaze, her ivory hair falling over her face in a curtain of silky white. "A large group of armed men broke into the Mansion, armed with live ammo and what I suspect was a strong tranquilizer. Jean managed to evacuate a lot of the students. Paige led many of them out through the tunnels, but it would seem that Jean and half a dozen, if not more, students were taken in the confusion."

"Taken?" I bellowed, horror hollowing out a hole in my gut. "What do you mean?"

"What do you think it means?" Jubilee snapped, sparks of light dancing from her fingertips as she stomped her foot. "Don't be dense, Dani, they're like gone. Okay. So we get 'em back. Right Storm? Right?"

Nodding, she turned her attention back to her two patients even as I turned my gaze to Peter. He had finished rigging the pulley system, yet still seemed a bit undecided as he stood, booted feet hugging the edge of the cliff side.

"I'll go down," I offered, brushing a stray tendril of hair out of my eyes. "I mean, unless you think I'm too heavy," I spat out hurriedly, ego taking a bit of a beating as I glanced down at myself and then up at him. Under Cyclops' supervision, I had slimmed down dramatically over the nearly countless weeks that I had called the Mansion home. Flushing, I fought the urge to cross my arms over my chest, as if that action alone could hide the fact that I still had wider hips and more curves than most of the other girls at the Institute.

"Nyet, that is not it," he rushed to explain, a bit of pink appearing on his thick neck. "I am simply worried about the descent. It is a rather straight drop; can you traverse such a climb?"

Nodding, I helped him rig a harness for me out of an extra length of rope, grimacing when he pulled out a strange silvery knife to cut it. "Adamantium?" I murmured, frowning when he nodded. After several long minutes, he tested the harness before positioning himself near the thick tree that he'd rigged into the pulley, his gloved hands holding the slack rope loosely. "Here it goes."

It wasn't entirely different from any climb I'd done with my dad. I'd stripped my outer gear and wore only comfortable cargo pants and a shirt sleeved shirt over my underclothes, but with the afternoon sun beating down on me I didn't feel the chill in the air. My boots were a bit bulker than I would have preferred for such a climb, but I made do as I mechanically searched for footholds and handholds on the way down, careful to keep my gaze focused on the side of the mountain rather than at the sight of the ground far, far below.

"I'm down!" I shouted what felt like twenty minutes later. My knees knocked together weakly as I wiped the back of my hand across my brow, wiping beads of perspiration away. Glancing up, I craned my neck to see John, Rogue, and what looked like Jubilee peering over the side at me. A few loose rocks toppled down as they scooted ever closer, causing me to release a brief curse as I hopped backwards. "Hey! Be careful up there!" I warned, frowning as I slowly worked my way out of the harness, knowing that if Logan was still unconscious that I would have to work it onto him somehow.

Deftly, I stepped over boulders and skidded over loose stone as I made my way over to his side. Hairs on the back of my neck standing on end, I slowly crouched next to him, fingers trembling as I ran my hand gently over his exposed back in order to press my fingers against his neck. Breath rushed from my lungs in relief as I detected his heart beat, faint but steady. Letting what little first aid training I had take over, I ran my hands over his neck and back gently, looking for any sign of injury. I knew it was unsafe, but, cupping the back of his neck, I rolled him over onto his side, and then over onto his back.

"Jesus." I hissed, grimacing at the tattered remains of his red flannel shirt. It was caked in dried blood, and a number of the puncture wounds on his chest still hadn't completely healed. His throat was still partially slit, blood puddling slowly on the rocky ground next to him. I lifted my gaze for a moment and looked around, and decided that it had probably once been a riverbed, long ago dried up. "He's out cold," I called up, watching as his eyes twitched behind his eyelids.

It felt awkward pulling the tattered remains of his flannel away, as well as peeling his white tank top away from his skin in order to see the full extent of his injuries. His abdomen was heavily bruised, decorated in blue and yellow and even green. Sweat beaded his brow, and his breaths were ragged, but he was still alive against all odds.

"Just hang in there, Logan," I urged him quietly, slowly adjusting the harness as best as I could. The only gurney we'd found aboard the X-Jet had been too heavy to take into the field, and I knew it wasn't safe to lift the standard person in a cradle, but I didn't have much of a choice. After several long, thoughtful moments, the sound of rocks sliding drew my gaze toward the scattered remains of the rope bridge some twenty feet away.

"He'll live, frail," the burnt and bloody form of Sabretooth muttered as he stalked toward me slowly.

My first instinct was to run, and to run as far and as fast as I could. I could hear the others reacting overhead even as I slowly rose from my crouched position, hands balled at my sides. "You just don't know when to stay down, do you?" I demanded softly. Part of me wished that Logan would wake up suddenly and sit up, sticking his claws straight through the man's skull. The rest of me was hoping that someone, namely Jubilee, wouldn't be stupid enough to try to get his attention. "We've got backup now. I suggest you get out of here before-"

"Before what?" he growled, stopping a few feet away from me on the other side of Logan's prone body. "Weather Witch gonna fry me? Gonna have Stripes pull 'em gloves off and come after me again? I don't think so." Gruffly, he caught my hand by the wrist as I swung at him, his grip tightening as I struggled. He was definitely weaker than earlier, but his eyes weren't as black, not nearly as black.

The earth shook suddenly, tossing me to and fro as I jerked away from the man and stumbled backwards, nearly falling as the tremors subsided. Eyes wide, I watched with a smug sense of satisfaction as the gleaming metal giant known as Colossus rose from his crouched position, his metal eyes seemingly narrowing in Sabretooth's direction.

Snorting, Sabretooth ran his hands over his nearly bald head, the tattered remains of his clothing swishing in the air. "Listen, X-Geek, I don't wanna have ta hurt ya. My head's finally clearin' and-" he was cut off suddenly as Colossus backhanded him swiftly, sending him flying at least ten feet away from where we stood.

Head cocked to the side, I glanced over at Colossus and then back at Sabretooth. "Well, that was rather diplomatic of you. His eyes... They seem different from earlier, Pete."

He looked astonished but quickly shook his head, even as Sabretooth stood up and growled lowly. "Look'n, I said I wasn't wantin' to hurt ya. Don't mean I won't. Jimmy's hurt, but he'll live."

"Who the hell's Jimmy?" I muttered, not minding too awful much when Colossus positioned himself between me and the dangerous, feral mutant.

Groaning, he pointed at the man at my feet, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Jimmy. James. James Howlett?" he repeated, blinking rapidly. "Oh, don't gimme no horse shit, just cause I know his name."

"But that isn't his name."

His eyes narrowed into slits as he rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "Stryker said he didn't remember. Makes sense. Didn't seem t' recognize me on Ellis Island, or even in Canada. Goddammit Jimmy, what the hell happened t' ya?"

"His name is Logan," I offered, torn between confused and annoyed. "At least, that's the only name he knows."

Snorting, he stalked forward, standing no less than five feet away from Colossus. "Logan? Oh, that's some righteous bullshit, Jimmy. His name's James Howlett– he's m' brother. That's right, frail. _Brother_." He knelt next to his prone form, his wounds healing before my eyes as he retracted his taloned claws, resting his palm on Logan's forehead. "Had the same father. Dammit. Always gettin' stuck takin' care of him. All our damned lives. Gimme yer shirt, girl."

"What?" I blubbered, eyes going wide as he motioned to my t-shirt. Uneasily, I peeled it off, shivering slightly in the tank top I still wore as I handed the t-shirt over. Without a word, he tore it into strips and did his best to dress Logan's wounds. "You expect us to believe you after you're the one that roughed him up and tossed him down here? How stupid do you think I am?"

He shook his head as he finished his work and checked the harness that I'd already rigged around Logan. "Lookit, Stryker's a right bastard. When I tried to duck outta the program about eight years ago, he dragged me right on back in. Ya see this?" he turned slightly, pulling down the torn remains of the collar of his shirt so that I could see the back of my neck. Grimacing, I stared at what appeared to be a very large cigar burn before he turned around, his eyes clear of emotion. "Gettin' away ain't so easy when he's got that little bastard son o' his. Was controllin' me."

"You think I'm going to eat that bullshit story?"

Snorting, he rounded on me with his lips peeled back, fangs glaringly obvious. "I don't rightly give a flyin' fuck. What I do know is that Jimmy needs some time t' heal, and unless I'm more fucked up than I think, Stryker's done made his move. That's right." Smirking, he peeled off the remains of his tattered leather jacket, his skin healing over smoothly before my eyes. "I was the distraction. I reckon I can give Stryker a piece o' my mind once Jimmy comes out of it."

Completely silent for a moment, I glanced over at Colossus, who seemed to have ignored the whole conversation. "Colossus, help them get Logan up topside. I'll figure out what's going on with Sabretooth. Okay?"

Several minutes later, I climbed alongside the infamous Sabretooth, piecing together the truth as we climbed straight up the side of the mountain. With his claws, he had no problem. I, on the other hand, slid every now and then during the trek.

"You expect me to believe that," I sucked in a deep breath and pulled myself up with a single handhold, grunting with the effort. "That you and Logan are brothers, that you've served in every major war since the late 1800s, and after Vietnam, you were approached by a man named Stryker?"

"He offered us a place on his elite team," he continued, grunting as he pulled himself upwards. "I liked it, m' animal liked it. Was bloody. Jimmy didn't. He bailed a few years later when we were in Africa, called it quits. Few years after that, maybe eight or so?" He reached out suddenly, claws digging into my skin as he saved me from falling to my death. After a moment, his eyes averted, he continued scaling the side of the mountain, me at his side. "I helped trick Jimmy into comin' back. Riled 'im up by makin' him think his woman was dead. Stryker talked him into the adamantium, promised it'd help Jimmy get ahold o' me, kill me once and for all."

"And," I sucked in a deep breath as I glanced upwards, body trembling from the effort. _Only a few more minutes_, I told myself as I reached upwards, searching for more handholds. "And then you helped each other escape the island a few days later when you met up?"

"Stryker'd made this fuckin' terrible creature outta mutants. Skin grafts, the works." Idly, he perched on the side of the mountain, taloned claws gripping the rock as he eyed me carefully. "Jimmy disappeared after it all, and so did I. We'd done decided that we'd kill each other another time, another place. Years went by and I didn't hear nothin' 'bout him. Figured he'd moved on, made a life for 'imself. Then Stryker comes on outta the woodwork, finds me. I turn him down and he pulls out this Asian bitch and some serum. That was, oh, 'bout five years ago."

We'd reached the top, and he stood firmly on the ground, eyeing the others warily even as Peter reached down and helped pull me the last several feet. Grunting, I rolled over onto my back and then pushed myself to my feet, wobbling slightly as I glanced around at the remaining members of the Jr. X-Men that were left behind. Peter had shouted down that Storm and some of the others were going to move the injured to the Blackbird, and that he was in charge until we met back up.

"You think this Stryker has the students then?"

"The students, the old man, probably that one eyed sumbish that thinks he's a goddamn gift to God," he offered, smirking as Rogue slumped away from him drastically. "Was plans for Xavier, big plans. All's I know is we ain't got much time."

"What exactly was the plan?" I prompted, ignoring Peter's offer to help me back to the jet. Instead, I stalked off in front of him, Rogue, and Roberto, taking the lead with Sabretooth at my side.

Snorting, he glanced over and down at me before shaking his head. "Who was the old man visiting?"

"Magneto."

"'xactly. Who knows more 'bout the X-Geeks an' the school than just 'bout anybody?"

"Magneto," Peter replied softly.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Sabretooth nodded. "It didn't take much t' get Mags to talk. I'd been tryin' to weasel information outta him, as per Stryker's orders," he snarled as he raked his claws over the trunk of a tree, nearly splitting it in half. "Had telepaths, 'long with that runt o' his manipulatin' me. Almost broke 'way after Ellis Island. But, he reeled me back on in. Mags is locked up, got access t' him. Broke 'im awhile back. Like I said, I was supposed t' distract so that he could get a team into your Geek's hideout. Reckon by now he already has his hands on Cerebro."

"This is so screwed up," I found myself muttering as I ran my hands over my face. As the Blackbird came into view, I held up a hand to stop the behemoth of a man in his tracks. "Please, just wait here. There's no way you can go aboard until I explain this. I can't believe it, and I have no idea how I'm going to make them believe it." Eyeing him critically, I released a hiss of breath and straightened my sore shoulders. "If you're lying, you're going to have more Rogue on your back next time."

With a shaking resolve, I left the others to stand with him as I slowly boarded the noisy Blackbird. As several pairs of eyes swivelled over to me, I cleared my throat. "We've got a bit of a problem..."

* * *

**A/N:** A _good_ Sabretooth! What in the hell was the writer thinking! Oh, wait. I'm the writer. (;


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer:** It would be totally awesome if they were mine. Cause then Xavier would totally moonlight as a lounge singer, dressed to the tens in a red velvet dress and an auburn curly wig.

**Story Notes:** This story acknowledges some aspects of X2 as well as some of the foundation of X-Men: Origins. Yes, I've messed with canon, who cares!

_**Normalcy is Overrated: **_She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**Chapter Eighteen**_

"I still say this is crazy."

"But he ain't lying," Rogue interrupted Bobby's seemingly endless tirade, gloved hands clasped together in her lap. "Ah touched him. Ah saw his memories." Tucking a strand of platinum hair behind her ear, she glanced over at me to the man that took up the seat next to mine. "What he tol' Dani, it's all true."

"That doesn't mean that it's safe to think he's on our side," Bobby countered, arms folded over his chest as he leaned away from Rogue. "I don't think-"

"That's the problem, Bobby, you _don't_ think." Voice hoarse, John leaned up from a row behind, lips curled into a smirk. "Why don't you drop the Cyclops wannabe facade and join us in the real world for a sec? The School was busted into, the Prof, Dr. Grey, and Mr. Summers are gone. This guy," he jerked a thumb in my general direction, "says he knows what's going on. Storm's willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Shouldn't you?"

Scowling, Bobby turned his head, staring resolutely at the side of the jet even as I glanced forward to where Storm sat at the controls. Her back was rigid, and the turbulence was a bit more than I was comfortable with. But, according to her mutters, the jet was more than breaking the sound barrier, which certainly explained why there wasn't much chatter.

"The escape tunnels lead to an area in the woods," she explained as the jet slowed dramatically. "We shall meet up with Paige and the others, and we shall secure the Mansion. Once we know, for certain," she added, glancing over her shoulder at Sabretooth, "the whereabouts of the Professor and the others, we will decide on a plan of action. Together."

It was completely silent inside of the jet as it lowered closer and closer to the ground. The moment that it landed, Sabretooth was on his feet and brushing past me in order to get to the back of the jet, where Logan, Amara, and Sam were strapped in to gurneys. Huffing, I rose to my feet and grabbed his arm, tugging him backwards. "Not a good idea," I warned, ignoring the urge to wince at the deathly look he spared me. "If any of them see you when they first wake up, we're going to have hell on earth. So, just don't. Okay?"

"She's right, Sabretooth," Storm murmured as she slipped by us, lowering the ramp with the press of a button. "I will ensure that the children are safe. Would you please scout ahead to the Mansion? Your senses are stronger than ours." He nodded a brusque confirmation before shrugging my grasp off of him. "Keep an eye on him, Danielle."

Grunting, I fought the urge to kick out at a chair as I followed the man down the ramp and into the early evening air. Dressed in a borrowed pair of matching X-sweats, he looked almost normal; his hair had been burnt off in the struggle, leaving him with could only be referred to as a botched buzz cut. Without even waiting to make sure I was behind him, he stalked off in the direction of the Mansion, slapping away branches and moving quickly.

Fighting the urge to yell a few suggestions at the back of his head, I hurried after him, breaking into a jog in order to catch up. Hands tucked into the pockets of my pants, I trudged along beside him, ignoring the constant slaps of branches as they struck me due to his carelessness. A ten minute hike later, we were on the familiar grounds of the Xavier Institute.

He held up a hand, motioning for me to remain quiet as he stalked forward like a giant cat, his steps light and sure. Ears ringing, as though searching for the source of any sound, I crept along behind him. There was a hole in the large bay windows of the smaller kitchen, one that we used to our advantage as we clambered inside. Glass crunched under my worn boots as I squinted, eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness.

"Dammit!" he hissed huffily a few seconds later after I'd flipped on the overhead light, casting the room in a cheery glow. "What if there are still some lurkin' 'round?"

Shrugging, I kicked what looked like a syringe out of my path and pushed open the kitchen door. "Then I'll have something to take my frustration out on. Let's split up. I'll take this level, you take the upper levels. Holler if you find something worth sharing," I called over my shoulder as I headed toward the rec room.

Every corner, every room– all held a story that left me nauseous. Blood was splattered on the floor here and there, enough to know that there had been a struggle and that it may have resulted in mortal wounds. There were overturned tables in the halls, broken vases with their contents spilled across the floors and rugs carelessly. Nearly every window was broken, its glass spread out around it and the wind making the normally homey and sandalwood-smelling school smell like burning rubber.

"No one," a voice called out from behind me, causing me to jerk side ways in alarm as I realized that he had managed to sneak up on me somehow. "Jumpy little thing, ain't ya, frail?"

"Only the lower levels are left," I found myself explaining as I shrugged off the urge to shudder, leading him to an elevator. As the doors slid shut, ensconcing us in quiet, I opened the hidden panel and pressed in the six digit code that would cause the elevator to take us to the lower levels. When the doors slid open, I let out a hiss of air and stomped into the silvery hallway in annoyance. "They sure weren't subtle, were they?"

The room that I knew only as Cerebro was a mere hole in the wall. The floor and wall around it looked scarred and scratched. "Blew their way in," he muttered, clearly annoyed. His dark eyes met mine for an instant before he motioned to the locked doors of the Danger Room. "Know the code?"

"It's in lock-down mode, so only the Professor or someone inside can unlock it," I explained, brushing him aside, I pressed the code that would, I hoped, activate the intercom. "Hello? Hello? Is anyone in there? This is Dani, Danielle Evans." The man next to me snorted, as though my name amused him in some way. "Storm is here, she's meeting with the kids that escaped. Please, let me in."

Several minutes passed in silence before a shaky voice murmured over the intercom, "I'm not sure how wise that would be."

"Josh?" I asked, blinking in both surprise and relief. The very same boy that I shared several classes with was on the other side with students, and it was a relief to know that the horror hadn't gotten to everyone. "Josh, it's me, Dani. Please. I know it doesn't follow the lock-down guidelines, but there's a lot going on. Storm wants us to get gathered up so we can figure things out. Look, I know that you're scared, but-" the doors started to slide open suddenly, stopping me mid sentence.

A dozen faces came into view a moment later, causing me to sigh in relief. However, when a redheaded girl named Rahne, a girl from my art class, suddenly shifted into her wolf form and leapt at Sabretooth, I realized that standing with a known enemy of the X-Men wasn't the best idea I'd ever had.

Moving into action, I grabbed Rahne by the hackles, jerking her back and fighting with an armful of wild animal before she shifted back into her human form, growling at me. "I cannae believe ye would be a traitor, Dani! Aye! Lee-me go!"

Slowly letting her go, I positioned myself between Sabretooth and my confused peers. "He's on our side for now, guys. Just-" I jerked my hand toward the elevator, doing anything but meeting their questioning gazes. "Just go. Get upstairs and meet in the cafeteria. Now!"

After a long, uncomfortable moment of silence, they hurried away, Josh leading the small pack to the elevator. Other than Josh and Rahne, the others were younger students; I didn't even know most of their names. It made me feel a little guilty, especially considering just how few students the School had overall. It was a small school, all things considered, and everyone knew just about everyone. But, I wasn't known to talk to just anyone, and I often kept to myself and stayed within my comfort zone with Rogue and Johnny, and sometimes Jubilee and even Peter.

With a quiet sigh, I entered the code that would lock down the Danger Room, ignoring Sabretooth's gaze as I turned toward the elevator. After several moments, it returned from its trip to the main level, allowing us to enter it.

"Ain't many that'd stick their necks out fer the likes of me."

Staring at anything other than him, I lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "For what it's worth, I believe you." He shifted uncomfortably next to me, and the elevator felt far too small for the both of us. The moment that it slid open, I staggered out into the main hall jerkily, knees knocking together as I breathed in the fresh air. A noise was heard in the distance, one that sounded mysteriously like thunder. Sparing him a glance, I took off at a run, feet slapping over glass and blood as I slid into the cafeteria.

"Stand down!" Storm demanded over the ruckus, lifting her hand as I stopped dead in my tracks, eyes wide. "I said stand down, Iceman!"

"Ah, trained your pups well, I see," a clipped, slightly English accent echoed over the noise of chairs scraping and young children crying. "Raven, perhaps your natural form makes the children uncomfortable. Please, my dear." A moment later, the blue-skinned woman next to him looked like a model, dressed in a pantsuit with long black hair. "You will have to excuse our rude and unexpected visit. I do hope you'll overlook the fact that we did not bother to ring the bell."

The next several minutes passed in relative chaos as Paige, Josh, and Jubilee struggled to get the younger kids quieted down. Food was brought from the pantries and refrigerators, spread out on the long tables like a smorgasbord. I managed to snag a few cereal bars and a soda as I followed most of the other Jr. X-Men into the small staff kitchen off of the cafeteria.

"What's he doing here?" Logan demanded with a growl as he slumped at the table, frosty beer bottle in his hand. He certainly looked worse for the wear, but he was at least conscious and talking. "'Ro?"

Sabretooth tacitly stepped into the room behind me, keeping his features blank as he leaned against the counter, shoving what appeared to be a roast beef sandwich into his mouth greedily. Logan, in response, growled but said nothing as he nursed his beer, his eyes unfocused as others shuffled into the room, many sitting.

At the head of the table, her hair ruffled and her skin far too pale for her complexion, Storm looked as though she had aged ten years in a single afternoon. "Amara and Samuel are resting in the library, one of the few rooms on the main level that did not sustain serious damage. Cerebro was breeched and is missing, but it would appear as though our other facilities remain intact." Turning her tired eyes to Josh Foley, she rubbed her temples. "We've gone through the school roster; eight students are missing and unaccounted for. Jean is missing as well, as are Scott and the Professor. Calls to Attica Prison have resulted in no answers, though judging by the appearance of Magneto and Mystique..." she trailed off, letting us put the pieces together.

"Did they take the Professor?" Kitty piped up, directing her attention to the man that sat like an aristocrat at Storm's right.

Those silvery brows went up slightly before he inclined his head. "I am afraid that Colonel Stryker had very unique methods of persuasion. It was during a visit that he and his team struck. They released a neuro-toxic gas into the area, one that rendered everyone unconscious almost immediately. I am afraid to say that I was unable to do anything to help save my old friend."

"How could you tell them about the School?"

"Robert Drake, isn't it?" the older man inquired, as though they were having a polite and friendly conversation. "Colonel Stryker and his _scientists_ have perfected a serum, derived from the spinal fluid of his son, Jason, that allows him to manipulate any being. While one wouldn't call it torture, per se, it certainly wasn't enjoyable. I am quite sorry that I lacked the willpower to resist, but there was not much I could do. But, that is water under the bridge now." Gloved hands braced together, he leaned forward slightly, blue-grey eyes shining under the florescent overhead lighting. "Colonel Stryker made a very dire mistake, assuming that he left me for dead. My dear Mystique," his eyes flickered over to the silent woman briefly, "was there to ensure that I escaped."

"So?" Bobby spat, his usually calm and cool demeanor completely gone.

Lips curled into a frightening smile, the mutant terrorist known as Magneto tilted his head to the side. "I know exactly what he plans to do with Cerebro, with Charles." Eyes focused on Sabretooth, he tapped his fingers against the table gently. "And I happen to know the exact location of the Alkali Lake facility where your X-Men, your children, are being held captive."

With my stomach rumbling uncomfortably, I listened, only half-aware, as the plans were made.

* * *

**A/N:** I know that it's highly unlikely that the fall would have banged Logan up that badly, but I'm going with his healing factor in X1, which wasn't quite as awesome as it was in X2. Basically, he bled out a lot and suffered a lot of internal damage during the fight and fall, so he just needed to sleep it off. Also, I figure the reason he doesn't lunge at Sabes immediately in the kitchen is because he's just too tired to really give a shit. Heh.


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer:** I'm merely a puppet to the voices in my head that look a lot like Sabretooth and Wolverine. I kind of like it. (;

**Story Notes:** This story acknowledges some aspects of X2 as well as some of the foundation of X-Men: Origins. Yes, I've messed with canon, who cares!

_**Normalcy is Overrated: **_She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**Chapter Nineteen**_

"Little past yer bedtime, innit?"

With a sigh, I folded my legs under myself and glanced over at the figure just outside the den's doorway. My breath fogged out in front of me as I snuggled under the blanket and deeper into the wooden swing. "And here I thought I'd finally get a little peace," I muttered, annoyance evident in my tone.

He said nothing as he stalked over, his movements deathly silent. After hesitating for a moment, he sat down next to me, his weight causing the swing to groan. A moment later, he pushed his feet off of the ground, swinging us into a gentle rocking motion that caused the chilly night air to make me shiver.

"Did you and Logan talk?" I found myself asking, doing my best to stare out at the quiet fountain rather than at the man that seemed to be sitting too close to me for comfort.

A grunt was his only reply for a handful of seconds. "Yeah, me an' Jimmy talked."

"And how did that go?" I asked, chuckling to myself when he called the Wolverine a few choice names under his breath. "That well, huh?"

"Said a lot o' it was ringin' a bell, but he ain't too pleased 'bout me tryin' to kill 'im. A few times." Hazarding a glance at him, I was surprised that the burns on his face were gone, and that he was smoking a cigar that, I figured, was one of Logan's. "Ended up tearin' a room t' pieces. Ol' Storm said we're gonna have t' pay for it, but I don't reckon she can make me do anythin'. Less it's with that mouth of hers."

"May I just say ew?" I shuddered, shifting as far away from him as I possibly could. "I'm not stupid, Sabretooth, you're not a good guy. And you're talking to the wrong person if you want to gain pull with the X-Men. I'm still new here."

He was quiet as he puffed on his cigar, blowing several smoke rings into the night air. I'd flipped on one of the porch lights, the one closest to the door, and it cast an eerie glow over the swing, me, and the infamous Sabretooth. "You see everythin' in black an' white?"

"Course not," I replied, rolling my eyes. "There's always a grey."

"I'mma grey, ain't chu?" he demanded, those black eyes latching onto mine and causing me to shiver involuntarily. "Done some things I ain't proud o', but innit that the same for just 'bout everyone?"

"Why are you talking to me?"

"What chu mean?"

Sucking in a deep breath, I wiggled my toes. "I mean, why in the heck are you talking to me? I don't even know you, and you sure as heck don't know me."

His eyes seemed to consider me for a moment as he shifted in the swing, cigar clamped between his lips. "You know how long it's been since I've been in control, since it's really been me?" The question seemed rhetorical, so I simply stared at him, lost in my thoughts until he continued. "Yer not like them other snot-nosed brats, simple 'nough."

"Is... is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"Nah, ain't much o' one, just the truth, suppose." Suddenly, he seemed slightly awkward as he puffed on his cigar, as though keeping it clenched between his teeth would stop him from looking like a complete idiot. "'Sides, ya ain't half bad looking."

Too startled to reply, I considered the best escape strategy, or the best way to figure out how to get Mystique to show herself. The Sabretooth I had heard and read about was an incompetent animal, one who got his kicks maiming, raping, murdering, torturing. Nobody had said anything about a wicked sense of humor, or the fact that when he wasn't looking at you with death in his eyes that he wasn't exactly half bad looking either, in a Wolverine sort of way.

"You know what he plans to do with the Professor and Cerebro, don't you?"

"What makes ya think that?" he responded quietly, rocking the swing gently.

Gathering my thoughts, I rested the back of my head against the chains that held the swing itself to the clearly nearly indestructible metal frame. "The serum you were telling us all about, it allowed you to function, like you said, but under a haze. You know the location the base, Stryker's plans to keep us busy, everything. So, it goes to reason that you know what he's planning to do with Cerebro." I paused for a moment, chewing on the inside of my mouth. "Magneto said that he knew, but he's as tight-lipped as Jubilee after an electronic gets fried."

"Is that so?" He smirked, teeth glinting in what little light the porch light provided. "Yer not half-stupid."

"I'll mark that down as the third compliment, Creed," I spat, clearly surprising him by using his surname. "What? I don't have one of those stupid code names, and it sounds so stupid to call you Sabretooth when you're sitting next to me smoking a fancy cigar."

"What do they call ya then?" he retorted, as though amused.

I wiggled my toes again, wishing I had thought to put on socks and shoes when I'd wandered outside to get some fresh air. "They just call me Dani, I guess. It seems most people have code names that go along with what they can do. Take you, for example. You have the claws, the reflexes, and the senses. Couple that with the claws, and you've got a cat of some kind. Calling you Cat-Man just doesn't sit well."

"Got most o' the files on most brats here, 'cept you. Been 'bout six months since we managed t' get the files though, thanks t' Mystique. So, that means you are new." Pausing, he rolled the cigar from one side of his mouth to the other. "What is it ya do?"

I shrugged my shoulders immediately, shivering slightly. "Apparently I have super strength," I managed, gritting my teeth together. It still bothered me that I was talking to him instead of growing a pair and stalking back into the Mansion where at least I'd have a witness when he started tearing me limb from limb. "I can't control it and it's completely unpredictable. Dr. Grey said that I'm a late-bloomer, that it was probably a combination of adrenaline and light-headedness that led to my mutation fully activating."

"Can't control it how?"

"Sometimes the simplest tasks seem daunting when I find myself putting a fist through a door, tearing a shirt in half while pulling it over my head." I frowned, thinking of a hooded sweatshirt in particular that had been ruined because of an unexpected sneeze. "It seems like whenever I most need it, like in training, it's not there. I feel useless, and I can't seem to figure out how to use it, how to call on it. It pisses me off to be honest," I admitted, clenching my hands together under the thick blanket. "I don't offer anything to the team. Even Rogue has more control over her powers."

"Stripes?" he retorted, snorting slightly. "Don't worry, takes a lot o' practice."

"I generally spend nearly every waking moment doing school work, working out with Cyclops, or training with Wolverine," I tried to explain, relaxing slightly against the side of the swing. "All I do is train, and I don't get anywhere. It's not like sports." I shoved the blanket down slightly, needing to use my hands to make gestures. "In sports, the more you practice, the more room there is for improvement. Eventually, if you make the same motion over and over again, you're going to get your swing right, you're going to be able to bank the same shot from the same position. Kinetic muscle memory. But . . . with my mutation," I grimaced suddenly, feeling as though I had bitten off a piece of rotten meat.

"Ain't nothin' wrong with being a mutant," he reminded me.

"I _know_ that!" I hissed, lips thinned. "I know that there's nothing wrong with being a mutant, but it's not something I ever planned on! You know as well as I do that these things are supposed to happen when you're younger, when you're going through puberty. I'm eighteen years old. I planned to go to college, with or without a sports scholarship. I wanted to go to prom, to hang out with my friends at the movies and spend time with my grandma on the weekends."

"And you can't do that now?"

"Hell no I can't!" Fury rippled through me as I fought back the tears, angry that my body was humming with the need to sob and scream. "I can't do any of that now because I'm one of _them_, I'm a mutant. The world hates me because of what I am, and I didn't choose this! Don't look at me like that, Creed. I know none of them chose it either." I swung my hand toward the Mansion wildly. "It– It isn't fair. I'm a mutant that can't control her ability that seems to come and go as it pleases, and the people that I know and respect, my classmates, are in danger because of a sadistic Colonel that thinks he can either turn us into weapons or exterminate us with utter ease." With a howl of frustration, I kicked off the blanket completely, watching it topple to the ground as I refolded my legs, trying to keep my toes warm.

"Stryker ain't gonna get 'hold o' them cubs," he announced decisively, his tone holding a bit more bite to it than I anticipated. "He's not gonna be expectin' a rescuin' squad. Sure, he knows of Red's connections to Congress, that Xavier's buddy-buddy with McCoy. Reckon he's thinkin' that, if anything, McCoy'll get a group together, try t' go 'bout it politically."

"But Magneto said that he got the President's permission to investigate the School," I reminded him, gritting my teeth. "If he got Presidential permission, doesn't that rule out any kind of interference? Something like that would take days, maybe weeks!"

"Which is why," he interrupted, grunting slightly as I shifted in my seat, stretching my legs out in front of me. "Which is why we're movin' in tomorrow. Mag's plan ain't the best, but it's the best we can manage for now."

"I'm nervous," I admitted, hating the way that the two words rolled off of my tongue. The anticipation that had swelled inside of my gut wasn't like the nervousness that I was used to before a big game, or even while on the free-point line, taking my two foul shots. It made me nauseous and giddy all at the same time, even while making me super introspective. "I don't know why Storm thinks I should be one of the ones to go in."

He seemed to agree as I shifted in the swing again, toes freezing. For a brief second, I considered grabbing the blanket and covering up again, if only for the heat and a shield of some kind against his penetrating gaze. "Ya shouldn't be goin', frail."

"Now just a minute," I interrupted, eyes narrowed in annoyance. Even though I wasn't sure I was best-equipped to go, I didn't want to hear the infamous Sabretooth agreeing with me.

Puffing on his cigar for a moment, he shook his head once, decisively. "Judgin' by how you'n acted earlier today, you think good on yer feet. You go with yer gut, you're protective. Not too big on backin' down either. Good qualities." Feeling both confused and awkward, I stared at his profile thoughtfully, wondering how on earth a man everyone said had brutally murdered, had raped, could ever seem so nice, so different. "Don't look so surprised, 'm sure you've heard it all before."

"Well, Cyclops and Wolverine both said I had really good leadership qualities," I admitted, shrugging. "But I haven't seen any sort of action outside of the Danger Room. Iceman and Shadowcat, and, heck, even Jubilee have helped on a few missions."

"But they're not goin', are they?" he prompted, partially burnt brow uplifted.

Arms folded over my chest, I grunted softly in agreement. "Kitty sprained her ankle pretty badly during the exercise. I guess Bobby was pushing his group a lot harder than I was. Jubilee can be, I admit, pretty unreliable. Amara and Sam aren't cleared for even mild training, and Tabby's sulking." Narrowing my eyes thoughtfully, I mentally went over the roster for the Jr. X-Men, realizing that more than half had minor injuries that had kept them off of the roster for the following morning. "Bobby's spent the most time in the simulator, so he's going to be staying with the Blackbird. Storm's agreed to let Rogue go, so long as she imprints either Logan," I glanced sideways at him, "or you. Which isn't a terrible idea, but it doesn't seem too safe. Pete's staying here, in charge of the remaining students, which is probably best. He's strong, and will likely do anything in his power to make sure they're safe. Jesse is probably going with us, even though he seems a little uncomfortable about it. His touch with electronics would certainly come in hand. And Johnny's going, which is either going to be good or bad. But, I swear, if I catch Magneto giving him the _come hither_ look one more time, I'm going to break that old man's hip."

A chuckle, a genuine chuckle, emanated from him for a full five seconds before he returned to his former, gruff self. "Sounds like a good team, way's you explain it. What's wrong wit' it?"

"Nothing, not on paper," I admitted, closing my eyes and shivering in the cool night breeze. "It's hard to believe that in a few hours, I'll be in the jet, flying to some secret military base in order to help free my teachers who are, oh by the way, members of an elusive secret mutant crime-fighting group, led by an old psychic man that can literally melt minds." Snorting, I opened my eyes and slowly slid off of the swing, leaning down to scoop up the discarded blanket and wad it up messily in my arms. "Best of all, apparently this Stryker guy can control mutants, make them do his bidding. I don't know about you, Creed, but the thought of going up against Cyclops and Dr. Grey, let alone _the Professor _doesn't leave me feeling too confident."

Offering him a nod, I padded back toward the den's door, feet freezing on the bricked patio. It wasn't until I'd slid open the door that he called out behind me.

"Night frail," he grunted, his voice hoarse. "Don't go countin' on me to watch yer ass tomorrow, no matter how nice yer ass might be."

In both shock and confusion, I paused with the door open before glancing over my shoulder. He still sat in the swing, his back to me. "And don't count on me to watch your ass, you overgrown fur ball." After slamming the door, I shivered and padded toward the staircase, feeling as though his eyes were staring a hole straight through my back. But by the time I made it to my room, I was exhausted, falling face-first onto my bed and falling asleep what felt like instantly.

* * *

**A/N:** When I first started this story, I never really could picture the end. And, yet, we're nearing the end and suddenly there's an onslaught of unexpected plot and characters that I didn't really expect I'd ever write in. So, this whole chapter is chocked up to that, and the fact that there's a possible sequel to this story already in the works that I didn't realize was tied in until I went back and started reading it. Mwahahaha. (:


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer:** Sure, Hank claims he hangs from the ceiling fan in order to dry himself off, but we all know that he just likes eating his Twinkies the way that no other man does! Oh . . . and they're not mine. Please don't sue my poor bum.

**Story Notes:** This story acknowledges some aspects of X2 as well as some of the foundation of X-Men: Origins. Yes, I've messed with canon, who cares!

_**Normalcy is Overrated: **_She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**Chapter Twenty**_

"I'll go in. He'll lemme in, right?"

"Oh, because I am certain that you are quite capable of finding the security room and allowing the rest of us access to the facility? I thought not, Wolverine." Turning and motioning to the blue-skinned mutant next to him, Magneto looked both menacing and comical in his dark evil-doer suit, compete with a goofy helmet and a cape draped over one arm. "Mystique will enter the facility, cause a bit of confusion. We shall enter in two teams. The first's priority will be to find the children, while the other group focuses on locating Stryker, and therefore Charles."

Flexing my fingers, I shifted my weight from foot to foot. "Why not send in Sabretooth with Wolverine? Make it look like he's bringing a prize back?"

It was quiet in the rear of the jet for a moment while Magneto's intelligent grey-blue eyes traveled over my face thoughtfully. There was a hint of admiration, or possibly annoyance, in their depths before he shook his head slowly. "Mystique will provide enough of a distraction for us to enter unnoticed initially. My, it amazes me that Charles would even dream of putting children into those suits."

With a sneer, I glanced first over at Rogue and Pyro and Bedlam, and then down at myself. It had been unexpected when we'd entered the locker room to meet with Storm and Wolverine, and she'd directed us to lockers with our own suits. In fact, it seemed uncanny that they'd already considered putting us in suits, as they were custom-made and fit us perfectly. Each resembled the ones that the X-Men wore, varying only slightly in design and in-seam color.

Rogue, looking slightly uncomfortable in her elbow-length uniform that showed a great deal more cleavage than necessary, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with a bare hand. "Ah'm not so sure Ah should be goin' in without gloves."

"You're fine," Pyro interrupted as he played with the ignitor system that had been rigged into the wrists of his own uniform. Eyeing Mystique-turned-Wolverine warily, he tapped his foot in a bored manner. "Gonna hurl, Dani?"

I shook my head quickly as I sucked in a mouthful of air, lips quivering as I exhaled through my mouth. Mystique descended the ramp, her booted feet leaving a trail in the glistening white snow as she disappeared in the direction of the facility. Without a word, I stepped closer to the ramp, fingers clenching at the smooth surface of the jet's interior. "How long do we give her?"

"Three or so minutes, I'd estimate," Storm murmured as she cleared her throat. "This will be your link to the rest of us. They operate on a secure frequency, and are waterproof, and have very little interference. Bedlam, please do not cause yours to short-circuit out accidentally." Gloved palm held outward, she waited until we'd each taken a small ear bud, all of us minus Magneto, before she swept down the jet's ramp grandly.

Sparing Rogue a glance, I slipped the ear bud into my left ear, grimacing slightly at the static before it cleared. "You sure you have enough of them to be safe?" I asked, walking beside her as we descended the ramp.

She nodded as she ran her hands over her pulled-back hair. "Yeah, Ah'm good. Just a little crowded up top. Sabes is still fresh in mah mind, now Ah've got Logan and it just ain't pretty." The air was brisk, far cooler than it was in New York, and it put a bit of color into her cheeks. That, or Pyro brushing against her did. "Yah sure yer gonna be okay with 'em?"

"By them I presume you mean the Wolverine and Sabretooth," I replied, grimacing as the latter of which brushed by me as he descended the ramp. It was if the conversation the night before hadn't happened, as he hadn't done more than spare me a few glares, and even a sneer as we'd boarded the jet and broke the sound barrier in order to reach the secret military base. "Between me and Bedlam, I think we'll be okay. You watch your back, Rogue. Don't be afraid to suck the living life out of someone. They're the bad guys. Hear me?"

She paled significantly as she nodded, her lips pinched together. "Stop second-guessing yahself. See yah on the flip side?"

With a nod, I offered her a mock salute as I hurried after Wolverine and Sabretooth, nodding at Bedlam as we followed the two men toward the facility. Like us, Sabretooth was dressed in an X-Men uniform, one that I was surprised to realize looked as though it had been made for him. He'd raised a fuss, but eventually relented and put it on, much to the amusement of Wolverine. They didn't appear to get along any better, but at least their bickering was nonexistent as we crept toward the facility.

"Fence is out," Bedlam offered as we neared an electrical fence. "We'll have to go over it."

I eyed the twelve-foot tall fence warily as I glanced down at my gloved hands. Unlike the others, they were fingerless, more flexible. When I'd asked Storm who had been the cheapskate that hadn't wanted to give me good gloves, she'd smiled and explained that since my ability was purely physical, one that required close-quarters-combat, that they'd decided flexibility was needed. The close-quarters-combat explained the fact that my uniform was apparently made to protect me against knives or sharp objects, but I wasn't looking forward to the thought of a possible gunshot.

Wordlessly, Sabretooth nodded at Wolverine, crouching slightly and placing his hands together. With a grunt, Wolverine took three steps back and then ran at the taller man, hopping up onto his gathered hands and using both Sabretooth's strength and his own legs to jump and propel himself over the fence. It was slightly amusing to watch the Wolverine sail over the fence and land on the other side with a crunch as he landed wrong on his knee and then fell face-first into the snow.

Clearing his throat, Bedlam started forward, waiting until Sabretooth had regained his position before he followed Wolverine's example. Though he lacked the older man's training and grace, he managed to miss the fence by several feet before landing in a snowbank near the Wolverine. Eyeing them warily, I prepared to jump over, shaking my hands at my sides as I inhaled the fresh air.

"Pat's comin' 'round," Wolverine muttered, his voice haggard. "Come on."

I glanced at the fence and then at Sabretooth as he let his hands fall to his sides, his black eyes searing an invisible hole right through me. Wordlessly, he pawed at me, wrapping one arm around my waist as he hoisted me upwards against his side. With a grunt, I pulled an arm back and socked him in the jaw, causing him to release a hiss as he took a step backwards.

"Dammit, frail, settle down," he ordered, those dark eyes narrowed into thin slits. As I fought against him, he ran forward, pushing upwards with his legs and propelling us over the fence with utter ease. With a jolt, we landed on the other side and he released me, receiving a backhand as I stumbled backwards with a snarl. "Feisty."

The Wolverine shook his head, reminding us that we didn't have time for petty fights as he led us into a large tunnel of sorts. The sound of dripping water and our footsteps echoing were the only sounds that could be heard as we hurried down the long tunnel in silence. A handful of minutes later, we arrived at what appeared to be the door to a bank vault or something equally as important.

"Lemme give 'em a nice welcome," Wolverine suggested as he brandished his claws. The sound was terrible, like nails scratching against a chalkboard. But a breath later, the hinges of the large and heavy door were gone, and it only took a swift kick from both Wolverine and Sabretooth to send it flying inwards with a resounding thud. "I've got the boy."

With a grunt, Sabretooth's taloned claws dug into my forearm as he grabbed me, tugging me toward him as we ran down the corridor to the left, while Wolverine and Bedlam ran to the right. It didn't seem like a good idea, splitting up, but I didn't have a chance to voice my opinion on the matter as I raced along beside him, heart hammering.

"Got two intruders in the northern sector!" a voice shouted from behind us, causing me to glance over my shoulder.

At least half a dozen armed men, if not more, were two car lengths behind us as we raced down the corridor. Sabretooth seemed distracted as the gunfire began, but was at least aware enough to slam me into a doorway along the way. A growl escaped his lips as I slammed against the metal door frame, wincing as I struggled to maintain my balance. In the space of a second, he had launched himself into the fray of the men that had quickly gained on us, his taloned claws glistening under the dim lighting as the blood shed.

My stomach turned at the gruesome sight, and I turned around abruptly, bracing my hands on the concrete wall as I leaned forward, hacking and coughing as I spit up the remains of my stingy breakfast. Closing my eyes tightly, I continued spitting until the taste was almost out of my mouth before I turned, as though expecting a firing squad. What I saw instead was a barely winded Sabretooth as he eyed me, blood splattered across his face and his lips pursed together.

"Frail?"

I waved a hand at him as I swallowed thickly, slipping back into the corridor and breaking into a run, determined to get as far away from the sight as possible. A few moments later, he caught up, his breathing even as he matched my pace, somehow leading the way down the corridor. We ran into two more guards, both of which he quickly eliminated, though in a much cleaner method.

"Been awhile since I ain't played with a kill," he admitted, snarling as he snapped a surprised soldier's neck.

The sound echoed in my ears as I clenched my fists, stomach turning. But, there was nothing that I could do for the man. Instead, I followed his directions as he led the way down the winding set of corridors.

"Wolverine!" I shouted, both surprised and relieved as we met back up with him and Bedlam in what appeared to be an empty hallway. While Bedlam looked worn and petrified, Wolverine looked slightly sweaty and completely in control. "Have you found any of the students yet? Dr. Grey? Anyone?"

He shook his head as he lifted a gloved hand, eyes going wide as he glanced up at a room that was labeled _Experimentation Lab 1_. Without a word, he walked down several steps and entered the room, Bedlam on his heels. Sparing Sabretooth a glance, I licked my lips and followed in their wake, his breath hot on the back of my neck.

"Yep, this is where they done it," he announced suddenly, voice gruffer than normal. "See that tank? Tore ya open and coated yer bones, yer claws in adamantium right there." Like a game show host, the Sabretooth stalked into the horrifying room and motioned grandly to a coffin-sized tank that was filled with green-tinted liquid. "Bringin' back any memories?"

Wolverine looked both horrified and calm, as if he'd walked straight into a nightmare. I gulped as I glanced around, shivering for no apparent reason as I walked over to Bedlam, only half-watching as he booted up an aged computer and searched it methodically. "Find anything?" I asked, only half-caring.

"Yes," he replied blankly, reaching into a small zip-up pocket on the vest of his uniform and producing a cord of some kind that was attached to some sort of electronic device. Rising from the squeaky desk chair, he hooked a hand around the back of the computer's tower, wiggling around a bit before sitting back down, the electronic object he'd retrieved from his vest pocket sitting on the dusty desk next to his. "I'll only need a few minutes."

Taking it as an obvious dismissal, I nodded my head and ambled over toward where Wolverine and Sabretooth stood across from one another, the tank of dirty water between them. In quiet contemplation, I found myself comparing them. Appearance-wise, I was forced to admit that they did look a great deal alike. Both were quite tall and broad, bearing dark hair, eyes, and facial hair. I'd seen Wolverine in the Danger Room enough to know that he had a great deal of body hair, and from what I'd seen when Sabretooth had attacked us, he certainly wasn't lacking.

_They really do look like brothers_, I admitted, frowning slightly. Part of me had suspected that Creed had been lying, had been looking for a way into the X-Men's graces. But, it was hard to deny that there was likely some sort of biological connection between the two when they were no more than a few feet apart.

"Storm's been separated from us," a voice cackled to life over my ear bud, causing me to jerk my attention towards Bedlam. "But, I think we know where the others are being held. We're moving in- Wait. Cyclops? Mr. Summers? It's us. Wait. Wait!" Pyro grunted as Rogue let out a hoarse scream, only to be cut off as Pyro's ear bud went completely silent.

Both Wolverine and Sabretooth glanced at me, their eyes meeting mine for a split second before rising to the doorway. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I spun on my heel slowly, stomach clenching tightly at the sight of a black-garbed woman with very, very long metallic nails that looked as though her favorite pastime was popping holes in people like me.

_Ut oh_.

* * *

**A/N:** You know, I have no idea if Bedlam is in character. But, seeing as how he wasn't in the movies, I think that I have a bit more room to play with him than I would in, say, the comic verse. Also, I love the fact that Dani's always nailing Sabes in the face when he tries to manhandle her. (:


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer:** If I owned these fools, I'd be living the life of luxury rather than sitting here, scowling at my ramen. (:

**Story Notes:** This story acknowledges some aspects of X2 as well as some of the foundation of X-Men: Origins. Yes, I've messed with canon, who cares!

_**Normalcy is Overrated: **_She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**Chapter Twenty-One**_

"Duck kid!"

Relying on instinct alone, I dove headfirst under an exam table, rolling over onto my back and staring up in shock as those metallic-looking fingernails punched through the stainless steel exam table as though it was butter. A grunt slipped through my lips as I balanced my weight on my elbows as I kicked up with both feet as hard as I possibly could. The result sent the table flying across the room, but the woman managed to flip off gracefully. I watched, slightly amused, as the table smashed into the far wall audibly.

"Deathstrike," Sabretooth offered with a howl as he leapt at the woman, fangs beared for the whole world to see.

I clambered to my feet shakily, ducking under a flying piece of what appeared to be metal as I rushed to Bedlam's side. He, on the other hand, seemed cool and complacent as he continued typing on the squeaky keyboard, eyes narrowed in concentration as lines upon lines of data flashed across the screen in rapid succession. I rested my hand on his shoulder in a show of concern, but he merely glanced up at me, brow lifted in confusion.

"I can handle this if you would prefer to assist them," he suggested, nodding toward the growling and grunting trio that were going at one another like crazed maniacs.

Instead, I tried using my communicator. "Rogue? Pyro? Storm? Anyone?" and yet, there was no reply.

"Duck!" a hoarse voice ordered. Out of instinct, I ducked to the side, watching as if in slow-motion as the heavy body of Wolverine slammed into a filing cabinet. An instant later, he was on his feet, shaking it off and lunging, claws gleaming, at the still-fighting Asian woman.

As I righted myself, the sound of clapping drew my gaze to the doorway. Startled, I simply stared, jaw slack, as a figure in red and black spun what appeared to be two very, very sharp swords expertly. His face– I knew it had to be a man simply because of the pronounced masculine build– was hidden behind a black and red mask, one that made him look slightly silly and yet intimidating at the same time.

"Naughty, naughty! Someone done went and busted the computers, if me being free is any indication." He sounded slightly crazed, if not hyper as he hopped up onto the railing with the ease of a gymnast, still spinning the swords around expertly. "Well, look who we have here! It's my old buddies! Hey Vicky! Hiya Jimmy! You two bypassed those marriage laws yet and tied the knot?"

"Wade? I thought you were dead, ya stupid fuck!" Sabretooth howled as the Asian woman sunk her metallic nails into his abdomen.

The man stopped spinning the swords as he hopped down lightly, tilting his head to the side slightly. "How many times I gotta tell you it's Deadpool now? Only babes like– well, hello there!"

Suddenly feeling as though thousands of maggots had just crawled over my bare skin, I took a staggered step back, eyes widening in alarm. "Hi?" I managed to respond, torn between the urge to fight and the need to just get the heck away from the insanity.

"Nice!" he exclaimed, his voice lilting like a stereotyped stoned surfer. He took a step forward, rubbing his chin with the handle of one sword. "Not only is she hot, but she's got a voice that could make a man do push-ups! With his, well, you-know-what!" With a burst of laughter, he replaced one of the two swords in a holster of some sort on his back. "It's like a muscle, you know. You have to train it daily, take it for walks, feed it. Heh. Feed it."

"That's disgusting," I decided, flinching slightly at his double entendre. "Listen, I don't know who you are, and we don't want any trouble-"

"You don't?" he quipped, voice laced with obvious surprise. "All I know is that for the first time in _years_ my cell door slid open and there wasn't an ape-sized SOB on the other side with a taser longer than my Mr. President– you know, the little Wade downstairs? Anyways!" With a slight grunt, he kicked a table in my direction suddenly, the heavy object sliding across the floor noisily before stopping a few inches in front of me. "Well, look at that! It would appear as though I've overestimated my strength. Ah, well. Let's battle! Go! Go!"

Gasping in surprise, I barely managed to duck down as he swung that wicked sword towards me suddenly, slicing through the air with an audible _swish_ that sounded both horrifying and neat at the same time. I dropped to my hands and knees, quickly executing a powerful leg sweep that should have had him flat on his back. Instead, he managed to perform an awe-inspiring back flip that left him standing on the same table that he'd kicked at me.

"Oh!" He placed his remaining sword in its sheath before clapping his hands together like a schoolgirl. "Pretty wants to play! Pretty wants to play!"

An instant later, he leapt forward, heel aimed at my chin. I lifted my arm, planning to block him with my forearm. As if expecting it, he followed the attack with a quick knee to my forehead, sending me skidding backwards on my behind. "Ow," I managed, wincing as I scrambled to my feet, narrowly avoiding an exaggerated uppercut and returning with a strong body kick to his torso, following it with a right hook.

Adrenaline rushed through me as he stumbled back slightly, a groan escaping his lips as he clutched at his side with one gloved hand. "For the love of Bea Arthur! What in the hell are they feeding you assholes in here? All I get's slop and sometimes, a nice pile of oatmeal that looks a lot like whale diarrhea." With a hiss, he pulled out one sword yet again, swinging it downwards toward my temple.

Pure luck alone caused me to duck to the side, bringing my knee up to his abdomen in order to avoid the attack. He replied by slamming an elbow into the right side of my face, sending me staggering forward as vertigo swarmed my senses. Dizzy and nauseous, I blindly gripped the side of a table as I struggled to straighten, head pounding with every excruciating moment.

A scream, one so feral and guttural that it made my blood sizzle, echoed through the room and through the haze that had clouded my mind. Dazed, I blinked rapidly as I searched for the source of the noise, shoulders going slack in horror as Sabretooth and Wolverine stepped away from one another, revealing the sight of the Asian woman as she sank to the bottom of the tank of liquid, a strange tube inserted directly into her chest.

I leaned heavily against the table as I glanced over at the man that had called himself Deadpool, half expecting him to quickly finish dismembering me. Instead, he stood with his hands upon his hips, his sword once again sheathed, and his head tilted slightly to the side. "You two really have a thing for that adamantium, don't ya? I mean, pumping her full of it is a pretty fail-safe plan to kill 'er, but I figured you'd be trying to pump her full of something else." He rubbed his head thoughtfully as Wolverine stalked toward him, eyes devoid of emotion. "I mean, other than being a crazy, psycho bitch, she wasn't so hard on the eyes."

"Wade, what're you doin' here?" Sabretooth demanded, shoving Wolverine out of his way in order to stare the immensely shorter Deadpool down with a look that could have likely killed a lesser man.

Appearing nonchalant, Deadpool shrugged his shoulders in a bored manner. "Stryker said he was keeping you as a pet, Vicky, but I never saw ya. Had me down in the testing labs, pumping me full o' shit. So, this your new crew?" he asked, motioning to Wolverine, me, and of course, Bedlam.

"You know where the kids are at?" I found myself asking, stepping forward to stand next to Sabretooth. "Please, they're just kids! If you know-"

"Hey, like I said, just busted outta that cell, so I wouldn't know a kid if it flew outta my bum like a spider monkey." He sounded slightly annoyed as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. "So, you mean to tell me that after all these years, you two are breaking in here instead of out? What the hell gives?"

"None o' yer damned business," Sabretooth replied with a growl, baring his fangs once more. "Got what you need, kid?" he demanded, not even sparing Bedlam a single glance as he suddenly appeared at my side, looking, overall, slightly bored. "I suggest ya get yourself outta here, Wade. Ain't got time for this shit right now."

"Ah, so the time for our epic battle must wait." Bowing grandly, he saluted us with a single finger before flipping grandly toward the doorway, blowing a kiss in our general direction. "Well, I guess we shall fighty-fighty anoher time. Be sure to take care of my sexy lady for me! Next time, maybe she'll walk Mr. President!"

In shock, I simply stood there as the other three moved toward the doorway a moment later, slightly dazed. After a moment's hesitation, I followed in their wake, only half-listening to their conversation as we moved down a long corridor together. My head felt as though it had been detached and used like a soccer ball, and I knew for a fact that I would have a softball sized bruise on my jaw and cheek where the jerk had caught me.

"Ya smell that?"

Sniffing audibly, I glanced around in confusion. "Smells kinda musty. What? Did someone cut the cheese?" In response, they spared me varying looks of annoyance. "What is it?"

"Not what, but who."

As we skidded to a stop in a large hallway, I recognized the very familiar red hair that belonged to none other than Dr. Jean Grey. But, when we grew closer, I noticed her blank expression and realized that something was very, very wrong.

"Jeanie?" Wolverine called out as a scream left my lips.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm sorry. I really couldn't resist putting Wade in here! Plus, I hated how he was screwed in Origins. So, yes. If you're wondering, I totally did screw up Origins Canon by more or less leaving Deadpool alone. Even if you hate me for it, I'm sure Wade loves me for it. (:


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer:** If they were mine, the movies would have been better, no offense. Logan and Rogue would have gotten it on by X3, Bobby and John would have given into their on-screen love, and Cyclops would have pulled the stick out of his arse and beaten an unruly Jean over the head with it. (:

**Story Notes:** This story acknowledges some aspects of X2 as well as some of the foundation of X-Men: Origins. Yes, I've messed with canon, who cares!

_**Normalcy is Overrated: **_She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**Chapter Twenty-Two**_

_She's not Dr. Grey_, I reminded myself as I covered my face with my hands, crouching with my back pressed against the wall and my knees drawn up clear to my chin. _There's something very, very wrong here_.

**Do not be afraid of me, Danielle**, her voice echoed inside of my head, far huskier than I remembered. **If you do not resist me, I will not harm you**.

"Fat chance o' that," Sabretooth growled as he sliced through a large pipe that she had flung, telekinetically, in our direction. Bedlam lay unconscious across the hall, his body curled up like an infant. And while Wolverine seemed torn about what to do, Sabretooth seemed hellbent on shutting down the crazy woman that kept slinging stuff at us like a tornado. "Don't let 'er get to ya, frail. Just keep fightin' her. We'll figure something out." In a very un-Sabretooth-like gesture, he offered me an encouraging glance before diving forward, using a large sheet of metal as a shield.

"Can anyone hear me?" I tried the communicator again, letting out a squeal as a large piece of concrete slammed audibly against the ground at my feet. Shaking, I scurried further away from the woman that was my teacher, my mentor, and did my best to remain out of sight. "Hello?"

**Hello**, she replied, her voice light as a feather as she slipped into my mind.

As though I had fallen asleep, I slumped to the floor bonelessly, eyes wide and unseeing as she brutally assaulted my mind. I felt her rifling through my most recent memories, laughing at the way I'd handled myself against Deadpool, tutting at the way I had almost _wanted_ to flirt with the crazed Sabretooth just the night before. She flashed through private conversations with Rogue, a strenuous training session with Wolverine, and finally paused on a less worthy memory of me burrowed under layers of blankets, curled around a pillow as I'd wept.

_Stop it,_ I hissed, feeling completely vulnerable as she latched onto the memory, filling me with the helplessness and self-loathing that had all but consumed me at that very moment in the memory. Tears fell freely down my face as I laid unmoving on the floor, unable to blink, unable to do more than breathe shallow breaths as I fought for control of a body that didn't even feel as thought it was truly mine anymore. _This isn't you. Just stop it. Fight the serum._

She laughed, cackled really, as I slowly rose to my feet under her will. **Why fight it when, for the first time in my life, I feel free?** I could feel my body moving, could sense my feet resting against the floor and my fingers clenching as I cracked my knuckles, and yet I could not control my movements. **My, you certainly are a fighter.**

I walked forward calmly, body loose rather than rigid as I ducked debris that flew at me with utter ease. Wolverine and Sabretooth were busy trying to break through Dr. Grey's swirling shield of debris, one that looked like a mini-tornado surrounding her, as I approached them from behind. I tried to warn them, tried to work my mouth, but it didn't work. _Move!_ I shouted inside my head as I leapt at Wolverine's back.

His body emanated heat, and I could feel it through the layers of leather as I wrapped my legs around his torso, wrapping my arms around his neck. He swung around viciously, spinning in a quick circle as his claws disappeared and he dug at my arms violently. "Dani! Get off o' me!"

_I can't!_ I screamed, fighting and fighting, but having no luck as I gripped tighter. I sensed his body giving, could almost hear his adamantium skeleton straining under the pressure as I squeezed my thighs together, pressing his internal organs tighter together. He released a strangled moan as I clung to him, eyes unblinking and body far stronger than it had any right to be.

Relief was short-lived when I was pried bodily away from him by none other than his supposed brother. I dropped to the floor in a crouch, hand braced against the cold cement floor as blood trickled from my nostril. Poised, I leapt at the taller man, dodging a left hook and blocking a strong body kick that would have likely at least stunned me. I jumped into the air, spinning slightly, majestically, and kicked out, my boot hitting him square in the chest and sending him flying back like a weightless dummy.

I could do no more than suck in short, sporadic breaths as I stalked forward, my steps light and sure. As he rolled over onto his side, I struck out brutally wrapping my fingers around his throat and lifting him off of his feet. He stared down at me, eyes boggled out, as he lifted a taloned hand to my wrist, as though daring me to make him use them.

"You are pathetic," I spat in a voice that was not my own, was not even human. Something registered in his eyes; surprise, annoyance, acceptance. Whatever it was, he seemed more determined than before as he kicked out, his boot catching me in the mid section and causing me to loosen my hold slightly, well enough to allow him enough leeway to slice his claws upwards, shredding into my forearm with a hiss.

It was as though I was removed from the pain as I stared at the open wounds, not even bothering to stifle the blood flow as I backhanded him mechanically, causing him to slam into the wall hard enough to dent the thick concrete. As I stomped over toward him, I heard something from behind, but was unable to turn around as I grabbed Sabretooth by the collar, slamming his head against the wall bodily.

"Don't think so!" a voice called out as I was struck from behind. An involuntary grunt escaped my lips as he caught me in a choker hold, dragging me backwards and bending me to his will so that I was nearly at a ninety-degree angle. Breaths even more ragged, I stared unblinking up at him as I swung my legs upwards, ignoring gravity in order to wrap my legs around his neck.

He released his hold on me immediately, hands clawing at my thighs as I wrapped my arms around his legs, tripping him up. We slammed against the floor audibly, his body breaking the fall. Robotically, I rose to my feet, kicking him in the jaw and rendering him temporarily unconscious. Without sparing the Wolverine a glance, I started back toward Sabretooth, only to realize that he was no longer slumped in the huge dent that he'd made in the wall.

"Lookin' for me, frail?" he asked, appearing out of the shadows as he backhanded me, his taloned claws ripping across my face with a sickening hiss of flesh. I wanted to scream, to cry, but I could do nothing as I attempted to block his next attempt, only to find myself pressed against the wall, legs spread indecently around one of his thighs and arms trapped above my head. "One move an' yer dead," he warned gruffly, claws tickling at the skin of my throat and poised for the kill over my chest.

The world was completely silent for a single instant before pain like I had never known before sloshed through my body drunkenly. I slumped against him as an inhuman scream tore free from my vocal chords, echoing in my head as I convulsed, body trembling.

**No! Charles, what have you done? No!** Jean's voice echoed in my head, closer to normal than it had been as her hold on me slipped completely.

But, the pain didn't cease. Instead, it intensified to the point where I closed my eyes, praying to black out as I slumped against the trembling form of the man I had just tried to kill. My head threatened to split open as my body convulsed, pain boiling my blood as I struggled to open my eyes.

Staring back at me was the confused figure of the man known as Victor Creed as he snarled and spat and convulsed, his legs giving out on him and sending us flying. I landed on top of him, and he rolled over to the side so that we were next to one another, his taloned claws still scraping against the delicate skin at my throat. He simply stared at me, body shaking as I screamed now and then, thinking that death was coming.

In spite of myself, I reached toward him, clawing at his uniform. I dragged him closer bodily, ignoring the feel of his claws digging into my skin as I clung to his chest, desperate to have something to hold onto if I was really going to die.

_I'm going to miss you, Grandma Janie_, I decided as the tears continued to stream down my cheeks. _I wish I would have had the chance to go to college, to even graduate. I'll hate that we'll never take another trip to D.C. and see dad's grave. I just wanted to grow up, to really grow up and fall in love and get married. All of those normal things. God, it isn't fair. Nothing is fair._

The pain swarmed my senses, nearly blinding me and taking my breath away. And then, without any warning, it was suddenly gone.

A feral and guttural cry left my lips as I sucked in a deep breath, body shaking as I clung to the man next to me, ignorant of the cold concrete that virtually ate through my uniform. All that mattered as that the pain had passed.

And then, without warning, he sank his claws into my throat, sending blood splaying across his face. Stunned, my hold on him loosened as my eyes rolled back and I slipped into the darkness.

**Fight it**, a voice urged me. But, I couldn't.

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**A/N:** Fight scene, go go! I've never really read any fics where the Blackout time is really focused on, so I'm not really sure why I found it important to include it. I guess so that we can see the main character die. Na-na-na-na! (:


	23. Chapter 23 take 2

**Disclaimer: **So, like, if I were a telepath, I'd probably use my brain melting powers in order to convince Hugh Jackman to sweep me off of my feet and charter us a private jet so that we could flee the country and be together forever! Since I'm not a telepath, he's still married and I'm still daydreaming. (:

**Story Notes:** This story acknowledges some aspects of X2 as well as some of the foundation of X-Men: Origins. Yes, I've messed with canon, who cares!

_**Normalcy is Overrated: **_She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**Chapter Twenty-Three**_

"_**Remember the first time we went river-rafting?"**_

"_**Of course, Daddy." I can't help but smile as he slides me a glass of cold milk. "How could I ever forget?"**_

_**He smiles as he cups his steaming mug of coffee between his large, callused hands. "That first rapid wasn't so bad, I remember. We were laughing and joking with the others in the group, teasing the guide about having a stick up his butt."**_

"_**That second one was a doozy though, Dad," I remind him, frowning slightly as I sip my drink. "I've never been so scared in my life."**_

_**His brows dip together as he shoves his coffee away suddenly, a few lines appearing around his tired eyes as he frowns. "When you went overboard, my life stopped moving forward. All I could think about was pulling you back into the raft. I was crazed," he admits, half-smiling in his familiar Evans way that I know he got from his father. "Just kept screaming for you. Do you remember?"**_

_**Slowly, I nod my head. "You kept screaming 'Just keep fighting, Dani! Don't give up! Don't go under!'" Ignoring my milk completely, I glance down at the large uneaten piece of cake on the decorative plate in front of me. The cake, a red, white and blue concoction that my grandma made the day before, seems inedible as I pick at it with my fork. "The water was so cold, and it kept pulling me under and I couldn't fight against it. I was about to give up, Dad, I was, when suddenly you latched onto my shoulders and dragged me onto the raft."**_

_**He's quiet for a moment, his eyes filled with emotion that I know he won't show for long. Whether it was the Army or his old-school style, my dad isn't the type to cry or fuss or screw around with emotions. "No matter what happens, you can't give up. Look at the two of us, Dani; your mom, God Bless her soul, is watching over us everyday. I know I'm shipping out again tomorrow, but I will always be here for you, watching over you along with your mom. You know that, right?" he asks, brows furrowed.**_

_**There is no need to explain that I love him, that I always have and always will, just like there is no reason for him to do the same thing. We're not overly expressive, and it works out just fine. So, instead of letting a few rogue tears fall, I sniffle and jab my fork into my piece of **__Farewell__** cake and smile shakily at him.**_

"_**Here's to us, Dad, the two Evans that are too hardheaded to ever give up."**_

_**With a grin, he scoops up a piece of cake and we smack forks gently. "Keep breathing, Dani."**_

"Keep breathing! Keep breathing, Danielle!"

Lights swirled in the background, spinning and taunting me in varying shades of brightness as I struggled to focus on something. I felt groggy, sleepy, and half-dead. And maybe I was.

"That's it, Danielle, just focus on me," a voice urged me, a familiar face swimming into focus. I felt slightly disconnected from my body as I tried to sit up, only to be held down firmly by what felt like several pairs of hands. "Do you remember what happened, Danielle? Talk to me." The overuse of my name seemed odd, but somehow comforting.

I parted my lips, trying to formulate the words, but nothing would come out. Finally, I managed a nod that caused searing pain to shoot from my head all the way to the tips of my toes. With a grunt, I closed my eyes, only to have them pressed open by a clammy hand. "No," I managed, whining as I struggled to shift away.

"It's me, Dr. Grey," her voice was smooth, comforting. Forcing me to focus on her, her clammy fingers worked over my chest, tickled my wet throat. "Your dad was the strong and silent type, huh? Mine too. He's a professor at Bard College, all calm and quiet like some black and white movie. Loves wearing tweed and loafers." Her face swum in and out of my vision as I struggled to focus on her eyes, relieved when they were their familiar warm color. "That's it, Danielle. My, I certainly hadn't anticipated this."

"Anticipated what?" I surprised myself by asking. Her fingers cupped around mine as she lifted my arm, pressing my fingertips against my bloody throat. I jerked in alarm, eyes going wide as I remembered what had happened. "I'm dead! I'm dead!"

"No!" She shook her head sharply, pressing my fingers ever-more-tightly against the wet skin of my neck. "You've healed the wound, Danielle," she spoke my name as though knowing it was the only thing that kept me teetering on the edge. "When I was inside of your head, I did something. You've been fighting against your mutation for so long, trying to be strong all on your own that you weren't even close to your real potential. And then, when the psychic attack began, something got scrambled."

"I– I don't understand," I whispered, staring at her with wide eyes as I was moved into a sitting position from behind. "Am I dead?"

Glancing around, I stared at the destruction that was left from her attack, as well as the damage that Wolverine and Sabretooth, and even I, had done. "No, you're not dead," she spoke calmly, her fingers cupping my chin as my hands felt limply to my sides. "When mutations are first activated, sometimes it takes extreme stress or emotion for them to reach their full potential. But you've been bottling it all up, fighting. Unknowingly, I pushed your body over the edge, and pushed you over that precipice. _You_ did this, Danielle. _You_ healed yourself."

"How?" I managed, lips quivering as I finally noticed Wolverine and Sabretooth standing side to side just down the hall. They looked like ancient sentinel guardians standing watch, their eyes never leaving my form, their bodies never betraying the fact that they were even breathing. "Not possible."

"A healing ability," she provided, helping me into a standing position. I was surprised when I stood steady on my feet, my head free from the dizziness that had fallen over me during the strange attack after her hold on my mind had vanished. "The Professor will have to verify it, of course, but there's simply no other explanation. I think it's your metabolism, something. My God, this is extraordinary. It's possible I could help other students reach their full potential. . ." she trailed off.

"Red, we ain't exactly got time for this touchin' moment," the Wolverine explained gruffly, jerking his head to the side slightly. "An' kid, I know yer scared and confused, but it's gonna have to wait til we're back at the School."

I wanted to scream, I wanted to pound my fists against the floor like a toddler having a tantrum. Instead, I merely nodded my head and clenched my fists at my sides. My dad's face flickered in my mind for a moment before disappearing quickly, causing me to glance over at Dr. Grey, who seemed oblivious as she limped forward, clutching at her left thigh. "I don't know whether to thank you or to feel ungrateful."

She spared me a once-over as she limped past Wolverine and Sabretooth, her dirt-stained face impassive. "You would have reached your potential sooner or later. I do apologize for my intrusion into your mind and, for that matter, how I used her against the two of you." Frowning, she turned on her heel and I found myself following along behind her, ears ringing and hands shaking suddenly. I felt weird, and it wasn't exactly a good feeling. "Whatever serum they've concocted, it's strong. My mental shields were nothing compared to it. They used Scott against me."

"Do ya know where the kids are, Jeanie? The Prof?" Wolverine asked, calmly sliding his arm under her shoulder, throwing her arm over his neck in order to alleviate some of the weight she was putting on her obviously injured leg. She slumped against him, as though tired and frail, and he practically carried her down the corridor. "Jean?"

"The children are that way," she managed, pointing a shaking hand to the right as we neared a four-way crossing. "The Professor... Oh God. We have to hurry!"

The large door guarding the kids looked menacing, but had no defense against Wolverine's claws as he ripped through it viciously- after Jean had mentally warned the students to stand back. Faces that were both familiar and unfamiliar came into focus the moment that the man-sized hole had been made. Anger trickled through me, fierce and undiluted, as children in their night clothes staggered out, socks and, in some cases, house shoes, the only protection they wore on their feet.

"It's going to be okay now," Jean assured them, her voice low and calm. Still, that didn't change the fact that they all jumped back and screamed at the sight of Sabretooth, which wasn't exactly surprising. Even the younger students were schooled to stay away from Magneto and his known band of followers. The very last thing Xavier wanted on his hands was a kidnapping. "It's okay, Cheryl," Jean hushed in a low tone as she ran her fingers over a young blonde's head. I didn't know any of the students personally, but that didn't stop me from letting a little boy clamber onto my back and cling to my neck. "We need to find the Professor, and then we're going home!"

_Wish it was that easy_, I found myself thinking as I hurried down the corridor after Sabretooth, letting go of the little boy's leg in order to wipe at the dampness on my neck. When I looked at my fingers, I saw crimson, causing me to shudder as I continued to rush forward, eyes trained on my killer's back.

**He was spasming, body completely out of his own control**, Jean's voice was warm and comforting in my mind as she brushed against me, mentally smiling. **As soon as the attack ended, he was applying pressure and doing his best to save your life. He's not the animal we all thought he was, Danielle; don't hate him forever. He's struggling with the fact that he almost killed you. **Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes met mine before her head whipped around again. **It's going to be okay**.

_How can you even think that?_ I found myself wondering as I hurried along behind them, keeping the children between me and them as a barrier of some sort. Hadn't he tried to kill me _after _the attack had ended? _This Stryker person and his men broke into the Mansion, took you __**and**__ kids. He's got Mr. Summers __**and**__ the Professor, and something tells me he's using that Cerebro thing to do something that's not so good._

She fumbled, nearly falling over if not for Wolverine's grip on her. Announcing that she was fine, she pointed down a long corridor and kept walking. **You're very observant, Danielle, though from what I saw in your most recent memories, both Magneto and Sabretooth sort of led you to the conclusion. Nonetheless**. "Storm?" she murmured suddenly, stopping in the middle of a four-way crossing. **Is your communicator still functioning?** she inquired, mentally frowning when I informed her that it wasn't.

Storm sailed into view in a puff of blue smoke that smelled like rotting eggs, gasping as she slammed against a wall head first. Confused, I watched in stunned silence as a puff of blue smoke appeared behind her, tanned legs kicking out and catching her in the side before another puff of blue smoke caused the figure to disappear.

"Stay here, kiddo," I told the little boy that had been clutching my neck as I slid him onto the ground, hands shaking. He barely spared me a glance as he ran forward into the throng of children, thumb stuck in his mouth despite the fact that he was at least ten or so. "We have to help her."

"No, the man . . . Kurt," Jean shook her head, eyes fluttering as she lifted a hand to her temple. "He needs to be distracted."

Without waiting for another word, I grunted and ran forward, ignoring the sounds of Sabretooth following behind me. A puff of blue smoke appeared next to me suddenly, and relying on instinct I blocked my head with my forearm as a foot swung out, nearly knocking me backwards. Rolling with the impact, I brought up my other hand and reached into the smoke at the same time, gripping and contacting with the demon-faced man.

An instant later, I was falling, chest-heaving and heart pounding as I fell from the puff of blue smoke onto the ground at Sabretooth's feet, too stunned to even comprehend the fact that he'd somehow _moved_ me from place to place in a puff of smoke. He poofed again, appearing behind Sabretooth and landing on him with creepy looking feet, blue skin shining as he crouched on the giant's shoulders, pulling a knife out of his long jacket and pressing it against the back of the man's throat.

"Lebe wohl, mein Freund," he all but hissed, his accent so thick that the foreign words seemed more like a grunt than an actual sentence.

He froze suddenly, yellowed eyes going wide before the knife clattered to the floor and he poofed again, reappearing directly in front of a stunned Storm on his knees, hands held outward as though praying. Mumbling under his breath, he rocked back and forth, sobbing quietly as he prayed.

"He was under the influence of the serum," Jean explained as she wobbled toward Storm, leaving Wolverine to stand guard over the students. "Kurt, it's okay." Her voice low and calm, she approached the strange-looking man apprehensively, hand outstretched. But, it was Storm that rested a slightly bleeding hand on his shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. "Are you injured?"

"Es tut mir leid," he whispered gruffly, lifting his palms upward as he slowly stood. "The Stryker, he do vis to me." Whipping around, he dipped his head downward, clearly ashamed. "I am Kurt Vwagner, vut in the Munich Circus, I vwas known as ze Incredible Nightcrawler!"

_Wow, he's a little off his rocker_, I decided with a frown as Jean quickly comforted him, explaining that both he and Storm were safe, and that he was more than welcome to join us, as after we retrieved a friend we were headed to safety. It was with reluctance that Kurt agreed to accompany us. Many of the kids were leery of him, save for the two with extremely obvious physical mutations, and he seemed awkward as he hurried along next to Storm, who despite her battered appearance, looked more regal than any woman had a right to.

"He's just ahead," Jean announced gently, once again leaning against Wolverine as he practically carried her. "Jason's in there, and he's wrapped up in the world that the boy's created. Kurt," she turned on her heel shakily, sweat beading down her brow. "You can teleport. Can you get inside?"

Shaking his head, the blue mutant looked like a cross between an elf and a demon, perhaps even like a rat. "It does not work dat way. I could teleport into a wall. I must," he paused, possibly for dramatic effect, "see or be able to picture where it is that I am going."

"Bedlam?" I suggested, glancing over at my rumbled teammate, brows vexed in worry. "Can you do anything?"

He shook his head as he cradled his left arm in his right. It didn't look broken, but his face was pale, slightly bloody, and his uniform was torn in places from his brief struggle with the so-called _Evil_ Jean. "No, there's nothing I can do. The controls to this door are on the other side, and they're completely offline. Whoever last used this door did so manually."

The Wolverine grunted as he stomped forward, leaving Storm to tend to Jean. As the sound of metal rubbing against metal filled the air, I found myself stepping up beside him. He stared at me, slightly confused. But, without a word, he sliced a fist-sized hole in the edge of the door and stepped back, claws sheathed.

It was as if Jean was controlling me again as I stepped forward, sweat and dried blood caking my face as I slipped one hand into the large hole. And then, with a grunt, I muttered my dad's advice and tried to understand what exactly my full potential was.

"_**That a girl, Dani."**_

* * *

**A/N:** God, I love writing fight scenes. Especially when the main character just gets bounced around! Also, yes! Dani lives! An overview of her mutation will (probably) be provided at the very end of the story. (:__

**A/N 2:** I would like to think Certh personally for fixing my terrible German. I believe that Kurt's mistakes are now fixed and should read "_Goodbye, my friend" _and_ "I am sorry" _respectively. Certh, you're so awesome. 3s_  
_


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer:** Apparently I'm like the only person in the world that things that Colossus and Rogue would be awesome together. But, I guess since I don't own them, I can't really complain! (:

**Story Notes:** This story acknowledges some aspects of X2 as well as some of the foundation of X-Men: Origins. Yes, I've messed with canon, who cares!

_**Normalcy is Overrated: **_She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**Chapter Twenty-Four**_

"That. That's impossible," I decided as I stared at the large, bank-vault like door that rested on its side propped against the wall. Running my dirtied hands through my dilapidated ponytail, I found myself shaking my head again. "It's too freaking impossible."

The kids were all busy talking about how one of their rescuers was Super Girl, while Wolverine and Sabretooth moved into the room. There was nothing to see save for a little girl in a nightgown, one that neither of the two seemed to like.

"Get out!" she shouted, drawing my gaze away from the impossible door to her. Eyes mismatched, she looked slightly crazed as she stomped a barefoot on the concrete floor. "Go away!"

Sabretooth had the little girl by the throat swiftly, lifting her off of her feet and causing the children to cry out in alarm. Hearing them, he glanced over his shoulder, his dark eyes meeting mine for a moment before he released his grip on the girl, letting her fall to the floor. "Stop what yer doin," he ordered, growling as she crawled away on her hands and knees.

"Jason must drop the charade that he's surrounded us with, that he's enveloped the Professor in," Jean hastened to explain, still leaning heavily against Storm. "Ororo, I know you are hurting, and I hate to ask . . ." she trailed off, limply resting her head on her friend's shoulder.

The first time I had seen the famous Weather Witch's abilities in the Danger Room, I had been stunned beyond belief. She possessed the knack, the strange ability to control any aspect of the weather. Storm could call lightning to her fingertips, usher in a blizzard in a matter of minutes, and cause clouds to rain inside of a building. She, in every sense of the word, was a goddess.

"It is going to get very cold in here," she warned as her bright eyes misted over in white, her head tilted to the side slightly in concentration.

The little girl, Jason, was still screaming and whining as the snow began to fall in thick heaps. Since the children were dressed for bed, Bedlam led them a bit of a ways down the hall, the confused Kurt Wagner at his side. Meanwhile, I stood between Wolverine and Sabretooth, teeth chattering as the snow accumulated in what seemed like an inch a minute.

"Stop this!" the Jason girl screamed, wailing as her body shook from the cold. I myself was freezing, and I was garbed in a technologically advanced uniform that helped regulate my body heat. "Stop this right now!"

"Just drop the charade," I managed to grit out, teeth chattering. Snow peppered Wolverine's muttonchops and hair, and it made even the fierce Sabretooth look almost _festive_. "Just stop it."

It took six and a half agonizing minutes of freezing cold temperatures before the girl Jason finally let out a scream and disappeared. The room, which had appeared empty and devoid of life only moments before, suddenly transformed into something that looked like the Cerebro I had only gotten a tour of.

"Professor!" I stuttered, teeth chattering as I stumbled over my own feet in a rush to get to his side. His grey eyes were glazed over for a moment before he glanced up, his body shivering from the cold. "It's okay, Professor Xavier, we're here to save you."

A smile curled his lips as he glanced around, eyes wandering. His lips curled into a frown as he glanced down, and I realized that he wasn't in his wheelchair, or a wheelchair at all. He sat in a regular chair, one that had certainly seen better days, and a strange helmet was perched upon his head. Almost shakily, he reached up, pulling the contraption off, and tossed it carelessly to the floor. "My children . . ." he murmured, looking very much his age.

To my surprise, Wolverine scooped the Professor up into his arms gently, carrying him bridal-style and ensuring that Xavier was comfortable before heading through the gaping hole in the wall that had once been a door. Sabretooth, meanwhile, was eyeing the poor soul that was strapped to a wheelchair, tubes running from his nostrils to several objects that were strapped to the back of his chair. His eyes, mismatched just like the girl's, were unseeing, unmoving save for constant darting from side to side.

I watched in silence as Wolverine carried the Professor to where Jean and Storm waited with the children, Bedlam, and Nightcrawler. By the time they were out of our hearing range, I could almost smell the intent on Sabretooth as he ran his claws gently over the man's face in a teasing manner.

"You're going to kill him," I murmured, not surprised or even all that sorry.

He spared me a glance as he nodded, taloned claws tracing a pattern on the man's cheek that caused his lips to tremble. "He deserves it."

"What's that?" I shouted, cringing as the sound of alarms blaring filled the air, making my ear rings and my stomach churn. He looked as confused as I was, and glanced toward the others before glancing over at me. "What is that?"

"The dam," he explained gruffly, retracting his talons before spitting on Jason's lap. Without a word, he grabbed me by the arm and tugged me toward the others. "Dam's failing. We gotta get the hell outta here."

"But what about Jason?" I shouted over the alarms as I braced my feet on the floor, fighting him in order to look back at the man that remained motionless. "We can't just leave him there!"

Those black eyes were on mine as he bared his fangs, no doubt attempting to scare me and failing miserably. "The dam goes, this place goes, frail. He's dead either way. Now come on!" he demanded, jerking me forward and practically dragging me to the others as he began shouting orders. Like some sort of Army General, he got everyone moving in a frenzied though orderly fashion toward an exit.

Wolverine carried the Professor, and Kurt helped Jean while Storm carried one of the children. After several minutes, I was practically deafened by the constant ringing of the alarms, and my body felt sore and, overall, I was simply exhausted, both mentally and physically. In fact, I was so out of it, that when we nearly bumped into three figures, I simply slumped against Sabretooth, relying on him to keep me standing.

"Dani! You're okay!" Groggily, I glanced over at the slightly bruising face of my best friend and managed a nod. Without a word, we kept running, the alarms trailing us from behind.

By the time we were outside, the bright sun shining down on us, I felt ready to drop. I stood in the ankle-deep snow, glancing around and trying to get my bearings, even as the others, mostly the real X-Men and Sabretooth, tried to figure out how on earth we were going to get anywhere if our communicators were down.

And then, like a sign from above, the slick X-Jet hovered into sight, lowering to the ground slowly. A collective sigh of relief echoed through the group as the X-Jet lowered closer and closer to the ground, but as it suddenly stopped the gentle descent at least twenty feet from the ground before plummeting heavily, Cyclops wasn't the only one groaning.

"Dammit, Bobby," Pyro hissed under his breath as we trekked the two hundred or so yards through the snow in order to get to the X-Jet. "I don't care how many hours he's clocked in the simulator, he's the worst pilot I've ever seen."

About fifty yards from the jet, Wolverine suddenly handed the Professor off to Cyclops, who merely shrugged, before heading uphill through several large bushes. With a grunt, Sabretooth followed along behind him, dragging me along bodily. I spared a glance in Rogue's direction as she helped load the children onto the jet before looking around, eyes narrowed before she boarded, disappearing from sight.

"Stryker." Wolverine stood in front of a man that was chained to a large rock, claws sheathed and visibly shaking. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Wolverine!" the man cried out, eyes bulging behind his glasses. He seemed to struggle to move his neck before realizing that the chains wouldn't give him enough leeway to do so. "You came back to me."

Sabretooth snorted as he finally released his hold on me, stalking forward in order to stand at Wolverine's side, eyes focused on the man I knew had to be Stryker. "Looks like you're finally getting yer just desserts."

"Sabretooth, I see you've managed to break away yet again." The man seemed less frightened than he should have been, simply sneering at the large giant feral mutant. "I've been telling my scientists for years that the serum isn't completely reliable, especially when you put telepaths and ferals into the mix. Oh, who do we have here? Have you acquired a pet?"

Both men released howls as Wolverine grabbed the man by the collar of his uniform, hauling him away from the large stone several inches. "What did you do t' me?" he demanded, his claws pointed to Stryker's Adam's apple.

"I didn't do anything that wasn't already in the cards," he replied, a bit of spittle dribbling down his chin. "You were already an animal, Wolverine . . . I just gave you the claws."

"Bullshit!" Sabretooth howled, his voice so loud that I expected the earth around us to tremble with the very force of it. "Don't let 'im lie to you, Jimmy. You had the claws, but they was bone."

Stryker seemed taken aback by the revelation, his face paling dramatically in comparison to the snow that surrounded him. "He's lying. Of course he's lying! You came to me as animals, clawing and fighting, running from the law. I gave you a purpose, gave you a chance!"

"Y' know it's a lie," Sabretooth hissed. "Not only can ya smell it, but you still have nightmares. I know ya do."

Wolverine seemed torn between gutting Stryker and turning his fury on Sabretooth, but after a long moment, he finally nodded. His senses, or what I knew about them, allowed him to detect faint changes in a person when they talked. He'd told me once that when people lie, their scent changes slightly, their heartbeat increases and, generally, they sweat even the tiniest bit. "What you did to me– No person should ever have t' go through that."

"No one else will," I found myself murmuring as I stepped forward, cringing inwardly at the way that Stryker ran his eyes over me, as if entranced. Arms folded over my chest, I glanced first at Wolverine and then met Sabretooth's gaze. "The dam's giving. Alkali Military Base is going to be under water in a few minutes."

Stryker looked miserable as he strained against the chains that bound him to the stone yet again, even though the struggle was clearly futile. He seemed pitiful, old and decrepit with the snowy backdrop. "Free me, Wolverine. Free me and I'll tell you everything. We have files about your past. Your _real_ past. Free me, and you'll finally remember."

"Files? On the computer?"

He jerked his gaze to me again, eyes narrowing as Wolverine glanced over his shoulder at me, as though it was the first he'd heard of a computer. "The computers are gone, by now. But, I have back-ups . . ."

"We've already retrieved all of the data from this place," I droned gently, fighting the urge to smirk at the soon-dead man as his lips fell open in shock. "Bedlam was working on the computer while you two were working on the Asian lady. He acted like he had everything on that thing of his."

"Deathstrike served me until the end, didn't she?" Stryker demanded suddenly, eyes crazed as Wolverine ripped off his dog tags and tossed them at Stryker's feet. "Wolverine, you belong to me. I made you what you are."

Arm on Wolverine's forearm, I crouched and picked up his dog tags, squeezing them gently as I rose. Wolverine snarled at me as I slowly swung the dog tags around in a circle, their silver glint catching in the light over and over again. "No matter what he did, you've become the Wolverine. That's who you are now. As my Grandma always said 'Getting fat doesn't mean that you were once thin and pretty; it means you're fat, so pass the damned bucket of chicken'."

He seemed slightly amused as he took the dog tags from me, draping them over his head and letting them clink against his neck before turning his attention to Stryker again. "I thought, I always thought that if I ever found the person behind the nightmares that I would gut 'em crotch to throat. But, you don't deserve a quick death." And, without another word, he turned on his heel and started toward the jet at a brisk jog, leaving me behind with Sabretooth and the man behind the entire situation.

Sabretooth seemed less willing to leave the poor man to his inevitable death as he stalked forward, taloned claws gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. Without a word, he raked his claws over Stryker's chest, several times, leaving seeping flesh in his wake. Stryker seemed too stunned to register the pain at first, but as Sabretooth took a step back, he released a guttural howl, his glasses finally toppling off of his face.

"Victor . . ." he grunted, wheezing as he spat up a bit of blood. "You've always been so loyal to me."

Wordlessly, Sabretooth retracted his claws and sneered. "Usin' some serum on me don't make me yer lackey, Stryker. See ya in hell." He stomped away with a growl, grabbing me by the arm yet again. As we hurried down the snowy hill, I couldn't help but glance back at Stryker, who looked pitiful.

And yet, as we got nearer to the X-Jet, I couldn't really bring it in me to feel sorry for him. Suddenly, I wondered when in the heck I'd become so mature.

* * *

**A/N:** I love how Dani's confused about whether or not Jason's a boy! Also, take that, Stryker! He so deserves to die. And yes, Sabes likes to manhandle poor Dani. (:


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: **Leeeeeerooooooooyyyyyy Jeeeeeeennnnkiiiiiiiins! Least, that's what Wolverine yelled when he rushed out of the kitchen in X2 and aggro'd the entire Mansion! Heh. Er. They're not mine. And yes, I'm a WoW nerd. (:

**Story Notes:** This story acknowledges some aspects of X2 as well as some of the foundation of X-Men: Origins. Yes, I've messed with canon, who cares!

_**Normalcy is Overrated: **_She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**Chapter Twenty-Five**_

"We can't get her off the ground."

Shivering, I rubbed my hands over my face and stood at the top of the ramp, struggling to see over Sabretooth's shoulder. The children were strapped into the bench seats in the back, and Rogue, Bedlam, Pyro, and even Iceman were already strapped into their seats. Storm and Cyclops were at the controls, while Jean tended the Professor. Kurt, the blue guy, was perched on a chair across from Rogue, crossing himself like a Catholic and, all-around, looking uncomfortable.

"Shit!" The usually pristine and seemingly preppy Cyclops howled as the jet powered up, only to shut right back down. "There's gotta be something wrong with these gauges. Damn. It has to be because of the landing, maybe it's the snow? Ororo?"

"We need to do a full system restart," she suggested, her voice as calm as it ever was. "How long would one take?"

"Too long!" Cyclops spat as he stood up, fiddling with gauges over his head. "We need to get off of the ground, and now!"

Sabretooth walked up the ramp slowly, rubbing his hands together as he glanced over at me. I simply nodded at him as he leaned against the side of the jet, arms crossed over his chest. Wolverine was in the front of the jet, as though his presence alone would somehow make Cyclops and Storm work faster. "Got two, three minutes tops," he grunted, black eyes devoid of emotion.

"That's not long enough to get the jet going, is it?" I asked, sighing heavily when he merely lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "What about digging the landing gear out? Would that help any?"

"No," Jean replied for him, pressing a hand to her thigh as she hobbled toward us. "A complete systems restart takes at least four and a half minutes, generally closer to six. They've been doing this for years, but there's only so much they can do." Wordlessly, she hobbled down the ramp and onto the snow.

Hands clenched, I glanced toward Cyclops and Storm, willing them to somehow magically fix the jet. It wasn't fair, and it was quite childish, but I was tired and weak, and completely overwhelmed by what had happened to me. "Pyro, can't you melt some of this stone?"

"No," he replied gruffly, playing with his ignitors like a child would play with their hot wheels car. "It's too sudden, too much. I'd just as likely turn it into ice or melt the landing gear. The only time I've really worked with... that sort of stuff is with Bobby."

"And no, I can't control stuff I don't create," the mutant in question supplied, bent over in his seat, head braced in his hands. He looked defeated, sad, and Rogue looked lost as she sat between him and Pyro hands clasped in her lap. "I've been practicing, and maybe in a few more months . . ."

As he drifted off, I glanced back at Sabretooth, who merely shoved past me in order to make his way to the front of the jet, where he argued with Wolverine good-naturedly while attempting to assist a wary Cyclops. A strange creaking noise echoed in the air, causing me to glance down the ramp in surprise.

"Jean?" the Professor murmured as the ramp began to lift of its own accord. "Where is Jean?"

As the ramp continued to rise, my heart began to race. "She's outside!" I howled as the ramp sealed itself shut. "What the heck?"

The next instant, the jet was alive with sound as it slowly powered up, as though by some miracle. "What's going on?" Cyclops demanded as he struggled to sit down at the controls, obviously confused. "What's Jean doing?"

"I'm sorry," the Professor spoke up suddenly, his accented voice altered as what sounded like Jean's voice left his lips. "But, it's the only way. I know what I am doing." He shuddered violently as he looked over his shoulder at the ramp, eyes wide in fear. "Jean."

"Jean!" Cyclops shouted as he attempted to shove past Wolverine, who caught him in a bear hug and refused to let him go. "Jean! Don't do this! You!" he practically shouted at the top of his lungs, motioning to the uncomfortable-looking Kurt Wagner. "Get her!"

He disappeared in a puff of blue smoke, only to reappear in the exact same place. "I cannot, she vwill not let me."

The jet was chaotic as I stared at the shut ramp in contemplation. I could almost feel the jet lifting off of the ground, but it was slow, as though the work was strenuous. My mind was a mess of thoughts and emotions as I stalked toward the ramp, smashing my fist into the sealed door at the edge and gripping the jagged metal. It swung downwards on its hinges noisily, clearly destroyed as it finally thumped against the ground after I kicked at it. Wordlessly, I jogged down the ramp and stood in the snow, eyes narrowed as Jean turned, her hair blowing in the breeze.

"Let me help you," I shouted as I crouched, making my way under the jet right under the ramp. _I can do this. You know I can_, I told her. I felt her brush against my mind gently as I sucked in a deep breath, legs braced. "I can do this," I repeated as I started to stand, the middle of my upper back braced against the bottom of the jet and the palms of my hand cupping the smooth metal.

I wasn't a puppet as I blocked out everything except for my determination to lift the jet. My body shuddered in alarm, in fatigue, and yet I could not give up. Whatever Jean had done to me, whatever the weird mental attack had done, it had changed me. My body felt strange, even new to me, as I pushed it to its limits, lifting the Blackbird off of the ground.

_This has to weigh a ton,_ I grunted as I struggled, sweat beading down my back and brow as I closed my eyes, groaning. _Come on, Dr. Grey. Help me!_

**Closer to seventy-five tons,** her voice echoed calmly in my mind as the weight eased ever so slightly. Soon, between the two of us, I was standing at my full height, arms outstretched and the jet resting on the palm of my hands. For a split second, I wondered if I was dreaming, if I looked like the infamous Atlas holding the very world in my hands. **It is coming. The dam is no more.**

The jet continued to hover of its own volition some ten feet above our heads as I staggered toward her, body weak and weary. She stood with one hand stretched out toward the jet, and her body half-turned, focusing on the ocean of water that was racing toward us so fast that I knew it would be upon us almost instantly.

My instincts took over as I grabbed her by the wrist, jerking her toward me as I turned on my heel, trudging through the snow. The ramp, still open since I'd destroyed the mechanical hinges, beckoned me as I pushed up off of the ground, free hand outstretched. The ramp grew closer and closer, and I realized with a gasp that I wasn't going to make it when suddenly several figures appeared in the ramp way, and four arms reached out, grabbing at me.

The ramp creaked under our way as I clung to it, dragging Dr. Grey up beside me as I shuddered in relief. My ears were ringing, my heart pounded wildly, and yet the sound of rushing water was deafening, causing me to look over my shoulder at the destruction that we'd left behind. As it grew further and further away, I wanted to sob in relief.

It was over.

"Jean? Jean!"

Suddenly, the woman next to me began to convulse. Alarmed, I sat up shakily, rolling her onto her back and held her down by her shoulders. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she continued to convulse, blood trickling from both nostrils. Wolverine and Sabretooth clutched at her, attempting to hold her steady even as she convulsed, the jet mimicking her movements. Her mouth fell open hauntingly, as though she were screaming silently. As she stopped convulsing, so did the jet.

"I think it's over," I managed, panting as I loosened my grip on her shoulders, suddenly aware of the fact that I could have snapped her in half. "I think it's over."

But it wasn't.

Her eyes fluttered open again, flashing a vibrant orange as she convulsed one last time. The ramp beneath us shook violently as it was suddenly ripped from the jet as though it was the top of a tin can. I reached up wildly, grasping air as I fell away from the jet, riding the ramp down like some sort of sail. I heard them call my name over and over again as I dropped down heavily, fear icing my veins.

The wind whistled in my ears as I looked down and around, eyeing the still flowing water uneasily. Before I could even send up a silent prayer, the metal ramp slammed against the top of the water, nearly causing me to break my own jaw as my head slammed against my knee. It skidded once, and then twice as I scrambled to hang on. My fingers pierced the metal as I struggled to hold on, wondering how in the heck I'd wound up tubing on a sheet of metal.

An instant after the second skid, the metal ramp flipped suddenly, and I managed to suck in a shallow breath before my back hit the water. The current grabbed at me, jerking my fingers out of their holds as I was sucked under water in a vacuum. My chest stung, burned, as I was sucked deeper into the water and tossed side to side. I flailed, arms flapping as I struggled to right myself, struggled to swim upwards.

And suddenly, I realized I had no idea which way was up.

My body felt heavy and weak as something large slammed into me, sending me flipping in the icy cold water. A grunt left my lips and, instinctively, I sucked in a mouthful of water. Choking, I opened my eyes in the gloomy green underworld, coughing as I tried to right myself. What felt like hours passed by as I swam upwards, the current constantly dragging me toward the side. My eyes burned in the water, and my chest felt like it was going to explode, when suddenly something impossibly warm filled my body and touched against my mind.

"_**Dani! Don't give up! Don't go under!"**_ My dad's face flashed through my mind as a drunken smile curled my lips. In the space of an instant, I finally understood.

Hands raised above me, I clenched my eyes shut and shot upwards, rocketing up through the water like a missile before breaking the surface. Before I'd even sucked in my first breath of air, I was screaming. Fear, relief, hatred, glee; emotions churned inside of me as I sailed through the air wobbly. Choking on the water that had filled my lungs, I felt blinded by the sun as I rested my eyes on the sight of the X-Jet sailing toward me.

The sun was behind it, casting a fairy tale glow on the sleek and impressive jet. As it neared, fatigue settled in my bones and I found myself fighting to not lose altitude. The moment that it was close enough and I could see faces peering out from where the ramp had once been, I dipped into a heart rushing arc and flew toward it. My ears popped and the wind chilled my cheeks as I defied gravity, sailing through the air like a real-life Super Girl.

**One must wonder if it's reasonable to add the ramp to the list of things you've yet to repair, Danielle**, the Professor's voice chuckled in my head, and I could almost feel his tears of relief as I crumpled to my knees inside of the jet, body trembling and weak. **You were very brave, my child. Rest now, **he urged me as my eyelids fluttered shut.

Instinctively, I clutched at the chest of Sabretooth as he pulled me further into the jet. My eyes fluttered open a few times before I lost the battle and sank into the quiet darkness where there was no pain.

"_**That's my Dani-girl. I'm always watching out for you, baby. Always."**_

* * *

**A/N:** Zomg! A flying Dani! Who would've guessed? Not me. Not ever. Yes, she's totally got a Ms. Marvel thing going, with the added benefit of slightly accelerated healing in place of near invulnerability, but I think it fits when paired with her strength. Yay Dani. (:_**  
**_


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer:** All I want for Christmas is all of the hot X-guys in my stocking, wearing nothing but Santa hats? Mwahaha. That'd be like, so awesome. I'd accept such a gift, if one actually existed! They're not mine, so don't bonk me. (:

**Story Notes:** This story acknowledges some aspects of X2 as well as some of the foundation of X-Men: Origins. Yes, I've messed with canon, who cares!

_**Normalcy is Overrated: **_She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**Chapter Twenty-Six**_

Smoke curled in the air around them as they moved through the hallway, movements nearly synchronized. Once again, it struck me how very much alike they were in looks and even in mannerisms. There was simply no denying that Victor Creed was related to the Wolverine.

"You sure you guys really gotta go?" Jubilee asked, hands on her hips and an annoyed expression on her lips. "Like, the Prof said he'd help. Really gotta run off like this?"

Creed merely lifted a brow at her, glancing over at his brother for confirmation. "Sorry, Jubilee, but this is something I gotta do," Logan replied, pulling the cigar out of his mouth and clenching it between his thumb and forefinger. He was dressed for the road, an aged leather jacket over his standard flannel shirt and a heavy pack slung over one shoulder. "Hey, kid, how ya doing?" he grinned as his gaze met mine.

"Fine," I replied out of habit as I leaned against the wall, hands on my hips and booted feet crossed at the ankle. We'd already had a _going away_ dinner, one in which I'd managed to rope Rogue, Ororo, and Dr. Grey into helping with. All that was left was for them to leave, but I felt like there was more to it. "Mind if I walk you guys out?" I asked, not waiting for an answer as I followed in their wake.

The garage lit up as one of them flipped on the lightswitch, causing the overhead lights to flicker noisily. Vehicles of every variety were displayed in the large garage as the two brothers started forward, heading to a large black diesel truck that looked as though it was made for off-roading. Keys in hand, Logan clicked the keyless entry, and pulled open the back door of the extended cab truck, throwing his bag in noisily before motioning for Creed to do the same thing.

The cigar was clenched between his lips as he turned on his heel, eyeing me from across the garage where I stood, fingers trailing over the smooth chrome of a motorcycle. "Don't worry, kid. This ain't the last you'll see o' me."

I glanced immediately at Creed, who seemed bored by the conversation as he lit his own cigar, one that was much thinner than Logan's. "Do you really have to leave?" I found myself asking the question that others had already voiced so many times before.

A sigh left his lips as he nodded his head. "Look. I've been tryin' to figure out my past for as long as I can remember. Irony at its finest. Vic thinks he knows someone that can help me, help me remember. Chuck's already said that there's somethin' wrong with my mind, something that's keepin' me from remembering. I figure I ain't got nothing to lose."

"But, what about my training?"

He lifted a brow in response as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. From what I'd heard, his goodbye to Rogue had been awkward and teary, at least from Jubilee's perspective. Apparently the southern gal had clung to him as he'd handed her his tags and said goodbye, slipping away even as she'd bawled. "I ain't the only one 'round here that can do it."

"I'm finally off of Cyclops's personal training," I managed, licking my lips. "Do you really think I want to spend anymore time with him than necessary? He's a drill sergeant compared to you."

"Kid, look-" he began, only to get cut off when Creed shook his head.

"Old friend o' mine that's coming to stay at the Mansion?" he began, his voice gruff around the cigar. "She's got more tricks up 'er sleeve than even Jimmy could dream of. I'll put in a word, cause she don't take trainin' lightly."

"That Vivian woman?" I replied, skeptical. When Logan had announced that he was leaving the School for awhile, at least six months or so, there had been a lot of confusion. In an obvious effort to sway his decision, Cyclops had brought up Logan's defense sessions and classes, asking who would take them over. Of course, that's when the Professor explained that he'd already discussed the situation with Creed, who'd suggested someone that was apparently joining the School as a teacher and, more importantly, a defense instructor. "Nobody's better than Logan."

"I am, frail, and she's better 'an me," he grunted, obviously none too happy about the admission. "Ain't met anyone that could take 'er, and that's sayin' something."

It sounded like a pile of crap, but I merely lifted a shoulder in a noncommital shrug. "Are you at least going to keep your cell phone?"

"Sure, but it ain't gonna be on most o' the time," Logan quipped, grinning around his cigar. "Yer gonna be fine kid, ya got a good head on your shoulders. After what happened at Alkali-"

"You've been there since I first got stuck going to school here," I interrupted, shaking my head. "Right next door, even. You helped make me see that it's okay that I'm different, that it's okay that I'm a mutant. It's just going to be _different_ with you gone."

Smirking, he pulled open the driver's side door and climbed up into the vehicle. I heard the engine's fuel pump hum for a few seconds before he turned the key. An instant later, he'd rolled down the window, resting his arm on the door, fingers gripping his still-lit cigar. "I'll be back, kid, and I expect ya to be on yer toes. Don't go slacking off."

Oddly enough, his farewell reminded me of the day that my dad had shipped out for the last time. Except, then I'd been standing on a tarmac with nearly a hundred people I didn't know, waving at my dad as he'd boarded a large camouflaged plane that had been headed to the Middle East. Women had wept, babies had wailed, and children had waved in confusion as their dads, uncles, wives, brothers, and even sisters had disappeared from sight.

My chest ached as I lifted a hand in a weak wave, watching as Creed disappeared around the other side of the truck before climbing up into the passenger seat. Almost robotically, I walked toward the garage door controls, fingering the controls gently before pressing open the code that caused the large overhead doors to raise open. The smell of diesel fuel filled the air as Logan maneuvered the truck out into the brisk afternoon air. I watched the tailgate as it disappeared, feeling a little deserted as it finally disappeared from sight as the garage doors slid back into place noisily.

I sighed as I stared at the place where the truck had been, feeling silly and childish as I considered stealing a car and chasing after them. _I'm eighteen, _I reminded myself. If I wanted to follow them to the ends of the earth, there was nothing that anyone could do about it.

"What's that?" I found myself asking as I walked over to the empty spot where the truck had been, eyes trained on an object that lay on the cement floor. The overhead lights flickered as I crouched, eyes widened in surprise and confusion as my fingertips brushed over the cool metal of the silver dog tag.

Part of me was terrified as I picked them up, the tags clinking together gently as the cool metal slid against the palm of my hand. Another part of me felt challenged as I slipped the tags over my neck, letting them rest against my chest before I tucked them under my sweater. A shiver raced down my spine as I clenched my hands at my sides.

Logan and Creed would be back. Someday. The only questioned that remained was whether or not I would stick around in the meantime.

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**A/N:** Omglolwtfbbqsauce! Logan and Vic are on speaking terms. Oh-em-gee! But, hey, I figure it's possible until Logan remembers that Vic ruined his life way back when. Also, the ending here is vague, again, because of the possible sequel. But, also because I think it's more mysterious and leaves more up to the reader. (:


	27. Epilogue

**Disclaimer:** Sadly, even after all of this time and effort, they're still not mine. All characters, save for Dani and her Grannie, belong to Marvel, Stan Lee, and the bank. Probably. (:

**Story Notes:** This story acknowledges some aspects of X2 as well as some of the foundation of X-Men: Origins. Yes, I've messed with canon, who cares!

_**Normalcy is Overrated: **_She never asked to be different. She was pretty complacent being normal. The day that changed her whole life changed. Being a mutant definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be. OC alert!

* * *

**Normalcy is Overrated**

_**Epilogue**_

"And now, to give an inspiring farewell speech to this year's graduating class, our Salutatorian. Please, join me in giving Danielle Evans a warm round of applause!"

I felt silly as I rose from my seat upon the stage, black cap and matching gown making me stand out as I ambled toward the podium. I wobbled slightly in the bright green heels that Jubilee had talked me into wearing, and my head ached from the day's processions as well as the tricky up-do that Kitty had managed with my generally unruly hair.

The Professor spared me a smile as he wheeled away from the podium, positioning himself next to the impeccably dressed Xavier Institute staff as I rested my hands upon the podium weakly. A sea of faces stared back at me as I glanced around the immaculate lawn that had been covered by tasteful chairs and decorations for the graduation ceremony.

A smile curled my lips as my gaze rested on where my family sat; my grandma, two of my cousins, and my grandma's nosy neighbor. Grandma Janie looked perfect, primped and pressed, as she sat there between two unruly teenagers, hands clasped in her lap. Her lovely black dress made her a bit slimmer looking, and her curled hair and daintily made-up face made her appear all the more lovely. Although part of me had half-expected her to show up in her bath robe, curlers in her hair, it was nice knowing that she had gone through the trouble of dressing up for me.

"Ladies and gentlemen, teachers and peers," I began, the speech that I'd written weeks ago and practiced hundreds of times rolling off of my lips easier than I'd anticipated. "We gather here today to celebrate this, our graduation. For some of us, this is the end of our general education. For others, college or job-training is next. For all of us, this is where we end yesterday in order to begin tomorrow."

"I came to this school late last fall, a chip on my shoulder and determined that I would not remain. I wanted to go back home, to go back to my friends, to continue playing sports. Instead, I was given a choice: keep your friends and family safe by staying here, or jeopardize them by going home. An easy enough choice, given the circumstances."

Considering the Professor's reminder that every member of the audience did understand that at least some of the graduating class was made up of mutants, I smiled faintly and continued.

"Today, we will step out into the real world together, ready to face our futures. Some of us will enter the job market, others will prepare to venture off to college, and still others will remain here in the sanctum that Charles Xavier has created. The world outside of these gates can be prejudiced, violent even towards the likes of me. Since the Great Blackout, the day that the world went dark, more and more groups have risen up in order to fight the outbreak of chaos that is blamed directly on mutants. I stand before you today as a graduate of the Xavier Institute of Higher Learning, proud to call myself your class Salutatorian. But, I also stand before you as a woman, as an American, and, most importantly, as a proud mutant."

"Some would argue that it is not normal for a person to be born with altered DNA that _can_ cause them to develop unique abilities. Even more would argue that these _mutations_ are an abomination. But, I couldn't agree less. I may not be normal, but what is normal anyway? Is normal spending your Friday evening relaxing after a hard day, flipping the channels and joking with friends? Maybe normal is spending your Sunday morning lazing about, knowing that there are chores to do that won't get done if you continue snuggling into the couch, book in your hands? Normal is a term that no one can correctly identify, as it varies from person to person."

"To you, I may not seem normal. But, to me . . . there is no one more normal. So, as we venture into the world as successful high school graduates, I urge everyone to look at the person next to them and remind yourself that, in their opinion, you might not be as normal as you think. Together, let us forge ahead to make a better tomorrow, today."

The applause was staggered at first before it grew into a roar, one that did little to ease the ache in my chest. My speech had been slaughtered as I'd gone off-topic, launching into a rant of sorts that would, no doubt, somehow backfire on me in the near future. But, keeping a smile fixed firmly to my lips, I nodded and walked back to my seat.

The ceremony lasted another twenties minutes, and then before I knew it, we had received our diplomas and awards, and tossed our caps into the air. Suddenly, I was a high school graduate. Nearly half an hour later, gowns discarded, we all gathered with family and friends, ready to eat.

"Your Dr. Xavier sure went all out on this luncheon, baby." My grandma smiled at strangers as she carried her china plate in her left hand, her drink in her right. "Oh, here's a good spot!" she decided as she made her way over to a large table with an umbrella. The gardens had been converted for the small after-party luncheon, one that could seat over a hundred comfortably. "Mmm. This chicken ain't half bad."

I couldn't help but smile as I crossed my legs, relaxing for the first time all day. "Professor Xavier hired the best caterers around," I explained as I picked at my pasta salad. I was hungry, but my stomach was upset. "Oh, here comes the gang."

Within ten minutes, our large table was crowded as many of the Jr. X-Men crowded around, with and without their family members. The conversation was loud and boisterous, happy and light-hearted. Rogue chatted with my grandma and I flirted half-heartedly with Kitty's cousin. Soon, a three tiered cake was brought out and sliced up and served along with more beverages.

The festivities lasted well into the evening before family and friends alike started to depart, leaving behind hugs and smeared lipstick on cheeks, and in a few cases, graduation gifts. Most of the graduating class had decided to stay behind in order to help the instructors finish out what was left of the school year. But, Bobby and Kitty had both left with their families, promising to write and call soon; they were both returning to the Institute in the fall in order to attend school online and help out with classes.

"Are yah nervous?" Rogue asked as she pulled on a pair of gloves. Once the School's guests had left, we'd changed out of our formal wear into appropriate street-clothing. "Ah'm nervous."

I couldn't help but smile as we exited her room and jogged down the main staircase two stairs at a time. "No, not too nervous," I confided as we headed toward the elevator, entering the code and taking it to the lower levels. Jubilee and John were there, waiting for us, as we exited. Together, we hurried down the hall, slipping into the room known as the War Room.

Cyclops, Dr. Grey, Nightcrawler, Storm, and the woman that Creed had recommended months ago, Vivian Waters, stood garbed in their X-Men uniforms at the head of the large conference table. All wore varying expressions of contemplation as select Jr. X-Men piled into the room, choosing a seat at random.

From what I'd heard, both Iceman and Shadowcat had been given their official uniforms and welcomed to the senior team the night before. As I glanced around, I realized that quite a few people were missing: Tabitha, Roberto, Jesse, and even Terry. I couldn't help but wonder what that meant for the rest of us.

"You are all gathered here because you've officially graduated from the Institute," Dr. Grey began, her smile warm and gracious. "We've watched you all grow as individuals, and I personally just want to let you all know how very, very proud I am of each and every single one of you."

"We've deliberated and considered this for a very long time," Cyclops took over, his voice laced with control and arrogance. "The Professor has been consulted, and agrees with our decisions. From this moment forward, we are breaking the X-Men into three separate teams. The Jr. X-Men are now known as Delta while the senior X-Men," he motioned to his peers, "are now known as Alpha. You, the graduating members of the Jr. X-Men that are in this room, are hereby members of Bravo."

Cheers echoed in the room as Jubilee did a quick booty dance in her chair and John sent a wicked smirk my way. Clearly, they couldn't be more excited.

"The teams will be thrown together now and then, as needed, but seeing as how Blackbird II is finally running well," Cyclops trailed off, lips curling into a smile. "Our ranks have grown, which means that I'll need someone that I can trust to lead you all, Shadowcat and Iceman included, when you're on a mission of any kind. Dani, could you come up here, please?"

The room was deathly silent as I staggered to my feet, heart racing as I ambled toward the front of the room. It was a little overwhelming, standing there in front of the infamous X-Men. Cyclops' visor winked at me as he turned around and pulled a carefully folded leather uniform in his hands. He let it straighten out as he faced me, bringing attention to the changes that had been made in the specially-crafted uniform.

Where before only the inseams were different, the material seemed lighter and there was a large _X_ shape at the v in the neck. The sleeves were plain save for the in seam, which was green. Overall, it was both stunning and a little overpowering, causing me to stumble back a step before Nightcrawler placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"Danielle Evans, you have proven that you have courage, as well as strength of mind and body in times of great distress. You're already well on your way to mastering your abilities, and for that we couldn't be prouder." With a faint nod, he held out the uniform, as though giving it to me. "While it took us weeks to decide, we think that the code name Tenacity suits you quite well. And, if you'll accept it, so will leading the Bravo team."

Slowly, I reached out and brushed my fingers over the smooth leather, as though in a daze. My lips quivered into a smile as I slowly shook my head. "I'm sorry, but I can't accept it."

The room exploded in a cacophony of noise as everyone began to talk at once. Jubilee was outraged that I was ungrateful, while both Cyclops and Chasm, the woman known as Vivian Waters, were simply confused.

"Scott, give her a chance to talk," Dr. Grey interrupted as he wrung the uniform between his hands. "Go ahead, Danielle."

I didn't even know how to began, so I looked at her instead. She looked the same as she had the day she'd nearly sacrificed her own life for ours, the same day that she'd nearly cost me my life. She'd been unconscious for weeks following Alkali Lake, and still sometimes seemed too tired to even lift a book with her telekinesis. Still, she was improving, and it made me sad that I wouldn't see her and the others everyday.

"This isn't what I want. Not now." It was hard to admit out loud. It'd been difficult enough to admit to myself late at night when I'd lain awake in a cold sweat, tossing and turning in my bed. "It would be too easy for me to fall right into line, to take the next step here and become an X-Man. There's more out there, more than I could ever see here." Slowly, I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. "I've been accepted to the Buffalo Police Academy. I leave tomorrow for Orientation."

The news seemed to surprise them, and for several seconds I almost feared that they would try to talk me out of it. I knew, deep down, that it wouldn't take much for me to change my mind, to give up on the plans that I'd concocted late at night, all alone in my bed. Instead, they seemed almost _happy_ for me.

"Danielle, I had _no_ idea!" Cyclops exclaimed, smiling broadly. For the first time since I had known him, he stepped forward and engulfed me in a hug. _Smells like Old Spice_, I decided as I patted him on the back awkwardly. When he pulled away, I couldn't help but grin as his visor winked at me. "You're sure it's what you want?"

I opened my mouth to reply before I realized that I still wasn't sure. Reflexively, I lifted a hand and cupped the dog tags that I wore every day through my t-shirt, half expecting him to think I was clutching my chest. I thought about everything that I had been through, all of the trials and tribulations and the constant training that I knew I would have to continue whether I stayed at the Institute or not.

Sighing heavily, I nodded my head.

I was going to be nineteen in two months, and my grandma was no longer my official guardian. I'd graduated from high school, second in my class, and was ready to face the world. It was time to start making my own decisions.

"Yes," I managed, wondering why it sounded like such a lie.

"_**Here's to us, Dad, the two Evans that are too hardheaded to ever give up."**_

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**A/N:** It's finally over! Whee! I cannot even describe how good it felt to finish this story. I've loved every single part of it, and it's honestly been a blast. All of you reading this- it's perfectly okay to leave a review so that I can get my ego fluffed. Thank you to those of you that have stuck by this story and continued to read despite the random postings. It's been finished and sitting on my hard drive for so long. I just hate editing crap. Thank you all! (:_**  
**_


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